Lay Me Down
by La Vik
Summary: With SAMCRO in a moment of weakness, August Marks and the Triads form an alliance to gain strategic control over the town of Charming. Juice gets second chance at being a husband and a father, and Jax struggles to accept that old SAMCRO tactics aren't good enough for a whole new war. Sequel to "On the Rocks". [AU, Post-Season 7]
1. Chapter 1

_A/N's_

_Hello there! Just a brief note that this story is a sequel to "On the Rocks", so if you haven't read that one, it might be worthwhile to check it out first. A lot is crammed into those 38 chapters! The pairing is primarily Juice/OC, but there is going to be more going on in this story, and other pairings to look out for as well._

_An initial disclaimer that I only own my original character, Denise Kwan-Ortiz, and the baby who you will get to meet in this chapter! This first chapter is going to be short and sweet - another update will come very soon! Just want to give all of you guys a chance to finish up my last two updates of "On the Rocks" and find your way here. It'll be worth the craziness, I promise!  
><em>

* * *

><p>Juice Ortiz, Vice President of SAMBAY, sometimes struggled to remind himself that once upon a time, he had been a prospect too. When he had prospected for SAMCRO, however, it had been just him. Now, the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Bay Area charter had five prospects all at once, and while the club president, Chibs Telford, was out securing a business deal with a Vietnamese cocaine dealer in San Jose, Juice was stuck babysitting. It wasn't quite as easy - they didn't have TM, so they'd taken on the guise of bartenders and bouncers at the Dirty Head, the old pub where they held their meetings.<p>

He looked down at the patch on the front of his kutte - he had given up so much just for the patch, and it seemed like so long ago. When his wife, Denise, had left, she had been a couple of months pregnant. Now, she would have had their baby. The baby would have been about six months old - and that meant he hadn't seen or heard from them in over a year.

Still living in Charming was a strange experience that involved always avoiding running into their brothers from SAMCRO - they were still brothers, but brothers with a great deal of bad blood after Chibs had taken a handful of members at the prompting of his lover, Sergeant Althea Jarry of the Stockton Police, and started up his own charter. SAMBAY, which based its operations in the East Bay despite its founding members still living in Charming, was now the more favored charter of Charming's new mayor, Deacon Bollinger.

Juice wondered often if his and Denise's baby was a boy or a girl - if the baby looked more like him or Denise, if it had brown eyes or green eyes. But he felt that he'd lost the right to know any of those things when Denise had asked him to choose between her or SAMBAY, and he hadn't chosen her.

At first, Chibs had insisted that Denise would come around - that she would come back home, and Juice would get his family. But now that she must have had the baby and was obviously fine without him, he didn't see the point in hoping for it when she was fine on her own. She always had been.

* * *

><p>"You're gettin' better at that, baby."<p>

Denise smiled at Gemma as she managed now to get her six-month-old daughter, Sofia, to sleep without a great deal of fuss. She gave a quiet, relieved laugh. For a long time now, it had been just her and Gemma in the cabin in Lovelock. It had been Gemma Teller-Morrow who had sat up with her at night through all of her hormonal mood swings, who put up with her when she couldn't stand the smell of practically anything, who held her hand in the hospital and got her home after she'd given birth. It was Gemma who taught her how to give baby-baths, who got up and prepped the bottles stored in the fridge when Denise was so tired that she could barely see straight.

"Thanks, Mama - I was bound to get it right at some point, right?" Denise shrugged. When she was confident that Sofia had fallen comfortably asleep, she put her daughter down in the bassinet and sat down next to Gemma on the sofa with a tired sigh. It had been an instance of strange bedfellows at the beginning - because Gemma, to be sure, was no shrinking violet, and if Denise was a firecracker most of the time, she was a full-blown piece of dynamite while she was pregnant. But, one day, it occurred to Gemma that this was what she had missed out on in not being able to raise a teenage daughter. And that was practically what it _felt_ like - having a daughter.

They did a lot of this, just sitting in silence in the rare moments that Sofia didn't demand every ounce of energy and attention they had. Denise pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it out towards the older woman.

"Jax just sent me these this morning - Abel just started playing baseball last week," Denise said happily. Gemma, of course, eagerly took in any updates she could get about her grandchildren whenever they came in, and they always came in through Denise. Her son knew that Denise was staying in Nevada, and that Gemma was taking care of her because she couldn't do everything alone, but he never contacted his mother. Never.

Living out in Lovelock was quiet and peaceful - a good place for a new mother, Gemma always pointed out. When Sofia became old enough to leave with Gemma once in a while - a month or two old - Denise had started freelancing as a photographer, doing location shoots for couples who got married in Las Vegas or Reno and wanted something a little more classy to remember the day by. Gemma had come to care for Denise like a daughter, and for Sofia like a grandchild, and so she was more than happy to be Mama to somebody, even if her own family could have nothing to do with her. Abel still called his Aunt Deedee, and from time to time, Denise was even able to give Gemma a few short moments on the phone with the growing boy.

Denise was reasonably sure that this wasn't entirely a secret, but when she spoke with Jax Teller on the phone, he never let on that he knew. Jax, of course, still pretended that Gemma didn't exist, and to maintain peace, Denise was more than happy not to mention her.

Because Gemma knew Denise so well now, however, she also noticed that something was different about her today, even before the younger woman said a word. "Jax thought it might be a good idea if I went out to Charming, took a few photos of Abel in action," she said, attempting to sound as calm as possible. Gemma, of course, knew better. Denise Ortiz hadn't been back to Charming since she first left, before the baby. She looked at Denise, raising her eyebrows and signalling that she knew it wasn't as casual a suggestion as she tried to make it.

"I'm not scared of going back," Denise snapped suddenly, clearing her throat. "I mean, it's just for one of Abel's games, right?"

"Are you bringing Sofia?" Gemma asked knowingly, and Denise let out a heaving sigh. Baby Sofia had never been back to Charming, because that's where _Daddy_ was - and Mommy had not so much as called Daddy to tell him that Sofia had been born, let alone taken her to see him. But Gemma knew eventually, Denise would go back - Charming had a way of pulling you back that way. Denise groaned slightly, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing her face tiredly. "Charming's a small town, sweetheart. You can't just waltz in and hope not to see somebody."

"I think it's time," she shrugged - and Gemma knew beneath all of the outer layer turmoil, Denise _wanted_ to see her husband again. She knew Denise still thought about him - it was, she conceded, only a matter of time before she began considering it. "You know, to stop hiding. And if I see him, I see him. If I don't, I don't."

Gemma was silent, studying Denise and the strange expression on her face - she had become, Gemma thought, so strong. So independent. Gemma had full faith that Denise knew what she was doing, in a way she had never had faith in Tara. Denise was practically her child now, though, and with that came the sense of protectiveness that she had once showered entirely on her son, Jax. Gemma felt the familiar prickle of unease at the idea of her daughter going near Juice Ortiz again, husband or not, after everything that had gone down with SAMCRO and SAMBAY. But it seemed as though Denise had her mind made up this time.

And, of course, Denise going back meant a connection back to Charming. Back to her boys. Gemma would never call it _using_ the girl, but at the same time, if that was a fringe benefit, then what reason was there not to encourage it?

"When's Abel's next game?" Gemma asked gently. Denise took a deep gulp of a breath and looked back at Gemma with a nervous smile.

"Tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

"Eye on the ball, honey!"

Abel beamed with pride at the fact that his Aunt Deedee had come to his game, as he had told his teammates she would. Aunt Deedee, he had already proclaimed to his friends on the Charming Little League team, was the coolest lady that he knew. Denise, clad in a t-shirt, jeans, and Converse shoes, was fidgeting slightly under the weight of a diaper bag, a camera bag, and her infant daughter, Sofia, but did not cease in whooping and whistling for Abel. With everyone except Jax on club business, Abel had one of the smallest cheering sections - but Denise more than compensated with her loud cheering.

"Easy there, don't blow out a vocal cord," Jax smirked. "Abel's gonna have more games, so you might wanna save your voice."

Denise rolled her eyes good-naturedly. As skeptical as she would have been to believe it to be the case, she and Jax Teller had become surprisingly good friends in the past year, though they only met in person on the rare occasion that a run brought him near the state line - she'd meet him at a diner around Truckee and send him back with a few Tupperware of food. Of course, it was food that Gemma had prepared, but for the sake of maintaining the peace, Denise always put up the facade that she'd made it herself.

"You want me to take the princess? Let you get in a few pictures of my little guy at the plate?" Jax Teller chuckled, holding out his arms. Denise groaned in relief and allowed him to scoop the baby into his arms. "Alrighty. C'mon, Fifi, you just watch some baseball with your Uncle Jackie while your mommy gets some work done."

Denise smiled as she pulled her camera out of its carrying bag and weaved her way to the front of the bleachers to get a good shot of Abel at bat, getting his first base hit. Upon arriving at first base, he turned and gave the camera a proud thumbs up - Denise made a mental note to get that one printed and enlarged. She managed to practically fill up the memory card of her camera before she decided to head back over. She first went over to the baby bag she had put down next to Jax and pulled out Sofia's bottle, but at that moment, a little boy in the stands darted around behind her and bumped into her, causing her to drop the bottle. She groaned slightly, but gave a chuckle and waved her hand, assuaging the boy's fear that he was in trouble

"You wanna run back to the house, clean that up?" Jax asked, glancing over at the bottle, which had hit the ground and become speckled with dust and dirt. "Here, I'll give you the keys and you can just -"

"There's another bottle in the icebox in my trunk," she shrugged. "And Fifi looks like all the noise is getting her pretty riled up. She could probably use a little time out from the excitement. We'll be back."

Jax helped Denise balance her bags and the baby before she walked off - but just as he sent her off and he was turning to watch his son play ball again, he saw off in the distance, across the way at another field in the Charming Sports Complex, two men on bikes flanked Althea Jarry's station wagon as they met up with someone in a blacked out sedan.

Juice and Chibs were here.

* * *

><p>"We can move your cargo over the Delta through Oakley and Mountain House," Chibs said, reaching out and shaking the man in the sedan's hand. "No need to pass through Charming anymore."<p>

"Yeah. I hear SAMCRO isn't quite what it used to be," the man in the sedan shrugged. "So if I can avoid taking the route through Charming, I'd be much obliged."

"My VP is a master, it'll be a clean job. Every police signal, scrambled, no foul-ups." Chibs nodded proudly.

Deals, as it turned out, were easy for SAMBAY to seal - especially (to their surprise) with Althea Jarry present. They had initially had qualms, coming off as being under the thumb of the police, but Jarry quickly made it clear that her only interest was to keep any such business out of Charming, and she would aid any effort to bring such business elsewhere. She kept it very subtle, however, how much her career stood to gain.

This deal in particular was a small but easy one - a six month contract to run a small syndicate's supplies bit by bit to their new headquarters in Buttonwillow, near Bakersfield. A steady stream of small enterprises, Chibs found, was what drew in new prospects eager to prove themselves but lacking any skills. They had immediately noticed upon arrival that there was a baseball game going on, and that Jax Teller was front and center, but their policy was very clear to avoid associating with him as much as possible. All for the best. The last thing SAMBAY needed was for Jax to get wind of any of their new deals and get any... ideas.

When it turned out, however, that Denise's car pulled up in the parking lot however, Chibs and Jarry had both noticed before Juice, sharing a glance. The familiar head of long, dark hair emerged and pulled a baby out from a carseat in the back. There was no way they would be able to go long before he noticed - but they said nothing quite yet.

Once their transaction had fully wrapped up, Jarry drove off to take care of business at the precinct, while Chibs clapped a hand on Juice's shoulder when he saw Denise walk away from the stands, back to her car - he couldn't point the girl out while they'd been doing business, but now, he felt obligated to. Chibs knew that the girl had left Charming _because_ of him, but he also knew what it felt like to have a girl and a child _somewhere_ in the world, but no ability to do anything about it. Chibs nodded again in the direction of the far parking lot. Juice looked as though he'd seen a ghost when, across the stretch of a couple baseball diamonds, he saw her - he had never said that he _thought_ he'd seen her probably dozens of times in the past year.

"Catch up with the lass," Chibs said throatily. "I'll give ye a few minutes."

And Juice didn't need to be told twice. He nearly sprinted over across the complex, his eyes trained solely on the petite form that he knew, even from behind, was Denise and the small, flailing baby in her arms had to have been his baby - his daughter, judging by the pink baby Converse and the little bow adorning her small tuft of a ponytail. She had gone to the trunk of her car and opened it, so when Juice finally caught up to them, flushed and short of breath, Denise was facing away from him.

How was he supposed to get her attention? Hello didn't seem sufficient. Nothing did. So, he said the first thing that came to mind as he caught sight of the baby she was holding.

"Is that her?"

Denise froze just as she finished up preparing another bottle for Sofia when she heard a familiar voice behind her - she didn't even know that she'd been spotted. She inhaled sharply before turning around and seeing Juice Ortiz - her husband - standing behind her and staring, still standing over a yard away as though he was scared to scare them off.

Juice, admittedly, sometimes wanted to be angry at Denise for leaving - and he had always expected that anger would come to a head when he finally saw her again for the first time. But now, his heart was thumping too fast and his palms were sweating too much to think about being angry. He just wanted to _see_ them - and the fact that Denise didn't immediately take off in the opposite direction cemented in his mind even more that if there was a time for anger, for digging up old grudges, it wasn't right now.

"Yeah," Denise said with a nervous smile. "This is Sofia."

"Sofia..."

Denise felt her breath hitch in her throat at the fact that Juice sounded legitimately enchanted upon learning his daughter's name for the first time. Denise bounced the little girl slightly, and she gave an excited coo when Denise turned her slightly so that she was facing Juice. "Fifi, baby - you wanna go to Daddy?"

The infant gave a flurry of loud babbles, clumsily clapping her hands when Denise closed the space between herself and Juice, holding Sofia out so Juice could hold her. He carefully extended his arms to hold his daughter and found himself being almost comically careful, fearful of breaking her or, as silly as it seemed, having her disappear like this had all been a dream. But now, he was holding his baby girl, his wife was standing in front of him. Denise couldn't help but smile at the sight of Juice holding Sofia.

"You know Sofia is my -"

"Your mom's name. I saw it on the marriage certificate," Denise said with a choked laugh, looking away and tucking her hair behind her ear. Juice gulped to keep himself from blubbering like he was the infant when he realized that this meant that Denise still thought about him. "She knows your face. She has a picture of you by her bassinet - she doesn't like strangers," Denise rambled slightly, wanting to fill the silence. Juice, however, was completely enthralled by the little girl in his arms. It took him a few moments before he saw the camera bag hanging from her shoulder, and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Could you - I mean..." Juice began. "Could I get a picture of me and Sofia?"

"Sure," Denise said - she and Juice couldn't help but laugh at the fact that in her attempts not to show how completely terrified she was in the moment, she instead sounded over-eager, clumsily fishing the camera out of her bag and fiddling around until she had it ready, poised to click a few shots of her husband and daughter. Juice didn't need to be told to smile - he was already beaming widely in the way that had always made Denise melt. She grudgingly had to concede that it still did. He bounced his daughter happily in his arms and took in her babbling while Denise clicked a few pictures, doing her best to conceal the fact that her hands were shaking, ever so slightly.

"You're beautiful - Daddy's gonna have to buy a new shotgun to keep the boys away from you. Show those nasty boys how Daddy cleans his guns," he said, craning his head to look his tiny daughter in the face. "You don't look like a potato at all!"

Denise couldn't help but laugh as she continued taking photos - admittedly, more than she probably needed to. After a few more for good measure, she stopped to review them, and Juice gravitated over as well to look at the pictures on the small screen on the back of the camera.

"Can I - can I see her?" Juice asked, feeling suddenly brave. Probably, he decided, because he knew Denise wouldn't sock him in the face while he was holding the baby. "Can I see you both? I just miss you..."

Denise inhaled sharply, and Juice suddenly held Sofia a little tighter in fear that he'd said a little too much, a little too soon. Denise, however, quickly recovered and gave him a lopsided grin. "Of course you can see her," she replied shakily. "She's your daughter -"

"You're my wife," Juice pointed out. "And I love you both -"

Denise froze again, and she gulped nervously, looking away in hopes of concealing the color rising into her cheeks. Juice knew, and he felt a great deal of hope in knowing, that Denise felt the same still, even if she couldn't bring herself to say it. His heart sank a bit, however, when she spoke up again. "I... I asked you a long time ago to pick me and her over that patch," she said, reaching out and gently tracing a finger over the Vice President patch on his kutte, then slowly, almost unconsciously tracing her fingertip down his arm. The brief moment of skin-to-skin contact caused Juice to inhale sharply. "But you picked the patch. Sofia deserves one of us to pick her, at least," she said sadly. "You could've tried to find us, you know. Anytime, you could've."

She looked away, feeling that the conversation was becoming too heavy, and as she looked away, she noticed Chibs standing next to his bike over by the next field over, watching them. Seeing Chibs again and knowing that Juice was here with him - most likely on club business - caused her to snap back to reality.

"It looks like your prez is waiting for you," Denise spoke up, clearing her throat. Juice looked back over his shoulder and realized she was probably right. He reluctantly handed Sofia back to Denise and found himself close to crying yet again, knowing that he had just found them again and needed to leave them. Denise, after putting her camera away and getting Sofia settled back in her arms, sniffed in a way that betrayed the fact that she too was trying her best not to be overwhelmed. "I'll - I'll email you those pictures. See when I can bring Fifi by your place," she nodded.

Upon hearing this, Juice couldn't help himself. He practically lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Denise and Sofia, hugging them gently before pulling away. Denise was visibly flushed, and couldn't help but inhale deeply, taking in the still-familiar scent of aftershave, the same one that her husband had always favored ever since she'd met him.

"I'll - I'll talk to you soon then," Juice nodded. Denise smiled weakly.

"Yeah. Tonight," she nodded in reply. "I'll send you the pictures tonight."

And for the first time in over a year, even if he had to walk away, Juice felt an emotion that was at this point somewhat unfamiliar, but nonetheless welcome: relief.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I went back and forth so many times about how the Juice/Denise first reunion should go down, so I hope you guys enjoyed it! Trust me, if this wasn't dramatic enough for you, there will be scenes in the future that are more (ahem) juicy._

_Anyway, I'm so glad to see that you guys have made it over to this story! I'm having a bit of a hectic time in real life again, so I'll work on getting the next installment ready. Until then, cheers!_


	3. Chapter 3

"Suspended? Mayor Bollinger, you have to be -"

"I told you to do a clean job, and you didn't," Bollinger said, coming around to the other side of his desk and rounding on Jarry. He hadn't seen the point of being evasive with the news that the jig was up, and that she was taking the fall. She _had_ to. "Highway Patrol caught wind of what your little boyfriend's club was pullin' on Highway 4 - someone's gotta fry, and it's not going to be me."

"Mayor -"

"You should be glad it's only a suspension," Bollinger hissed, coming in close to Althea's face. He had been happy to humor her - he'd done so for an entire year. He'd let her run her beat the way she wanted, associate with her biker beau's outlaw friends, as long as she ran her business in a manner that aligned with his goals, his needs for the town of Charming. But they'd been found out. The jig was up, and he, certainly, couldn't take responsibility for this lady sheriff's indiscretions when he was putting so much effort into hiding his own. "Lay low, Jarry. Stay under the radar until this is all cleared up. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Bollinger said, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a cigar. "Now get the hell out of my office."

Jarry stopped and stared incredulously at the man's nerve, turning on her when it became convenient. They'd had a deal - that he was going to take her with him to the top, that they'd get the Charming PD reinstated, and Jarry would be allowed to call the shots. And it had all been a lie. She inhaled sharply through her nostrils, turning on her heel and striding proudly out the door to Mayor Bollinger's makeshift office at the police station, but she froze when, just as she was leaving, she saw someone being dragged into the precinct in cuffs.

Chibs. He was not resisting the officers - it appeared he had come quietly. When he caught sight of Althea, however, it was as though a spark ignited in his eyes as he immediately began thrashing against the cuffs, with two officers being the only thing holding him back from lashing out at the woman who betrayed him.

"You and I are through, you opportunistic leech - you bitch!" he seethed, his eyes narrowed in rage. "Never let me see your face again, Althea," he sneered as they yanked him over to the detention cell. "Never. Mark my words, you _bitch_. Never let me see you _again_."

* * *

><p>"What the hell are we gonna do about Chibs?" Tig asked, knocking his fist repeatedly on the table. At present, it was just him, Quinn, and Juice at the usual table at the Dirty Head, and Juice, for one, looked like he was about to be sick. It was only <em>barely<em> a relief that their five prospects weren't around for this, especially for Juice, because with Chibs incapacitated, that left him in charge. Vice President was one thing, but calling the shots like this? He could hardly choose what he was going to eat for dinner without everyone putting money on him getting food poisoning.

"Jarry was playing us the whole time," Juice said in disbelief. When the news had first reached him, his immediate impulse had been to feel sick -overwhelmingly, gut-wrenchingly sick. Hadn't Denise said that Jarry wasn't worth trusting? Juice had always hated fighting with Denise, but he hated it even more when she turned out to be right, and when it came to reading other people, that had always been the majority of times. "Fuck, man... fuck."

"What about your ol' lady?" Quinn asked, swiping his hand over his forehead. "Juice, man, didn't you say you were still in good with her? Sendin' emails and shit? You two seem pretty cozy."

"Yeah, so?" Juice asked, his brow furrowing. "What does Denise -"

"What the hell can we possibly want from the guy's ex-wife? I know he knocked her up but I doubt the dick is that good," Tig snapped. "Jesus Christ -"

"Wife," Juice snapped, feeling strangely offended at the small error. "Not ex-wife."

"Exactly. And she's still on good terms with Jax," Quinn said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "If anyone's got the kinda pull with Jax to get us patched back into SAMCRO -"

"You want us to ask the girl?" Tig asked. "Fuck, I'm pretty sure she made it clear she wanted nothin' to do with club shit when she disappeared off the face of the -"

But before Tig could finish his statement, Juice had already pulled out his phone, eliciting a groan from Tig. It wasn't that he didn't think well of Denise - hell, the girl had some of the brassiest balls he knew of, and it would've been dumb not to respect that. He'd been the one to _find_ her on the side of the interstate when her brother had beaten her half to death and left her there, and he knew she was tougher than she looked. It wasn't Denise he questioned. It was Juice. He'd patched into SAMBAY because he'd lost faith in Jax's ability to take care of his own, but if someone had told him a few years ago that one day, he'd be taking orders from _Juice_ _Ortiz_, the fuck-up prospect, he would've never believed it.

"You have the girl's number again? You two doing that phone sex shit?" Tig commented snidely. "_Whipped, _kid. You are completely whipped."

Juice simply shrugged in response. He'd asked for Denise to send him a photo of Sofia for him to use as his wallpaper, and she'd sent him one - he immediately had saved her new phone number. He could have honestly easily traced her from there, but he decided he wouldn't - that everything that was happening was a good sign, and that if he waited it out, she would come closer if she was ever ready. But now, things were different. They needed her help. Tig groaned slightly, expecting nothing promising from the call. Juice, however, appeared nervous as he put his phone on speaker.

"Hello?" Denise's voice came on the other line. "Hello? Juice? Did you sit on your phone again? Is this a buttdial? Because Fifi's getting into my camera stuff right now and-"

"No - no, I'm here. Hi," Juice stammered. "Listen, something happened. Chibs got picked up by the CHP on a run - Jarry's been using us and -"

"How much do you need?" Denise asked, her voice sounding urgent, but somewhat annoyed. Juice knew the tone well - he knew it meant, 'I told you so, but I'll rub it in later'. "I said," Denise urged after Juice was quiet for a few moments, "how much to get him out?"

"I don't know, haven't heard about it yet," Juice recovered quickly. "That's not why I called. It's not about the money -"

"Well, that's a first," Denise interrupted, only half-joking. Juice winced, but knew that it wasn't entirely uncalled for.

"I - I need to ask a favor from you."

"Shoot."

"I..." Juice took a breath and looked back and forth between Tig and Quinn. "I need you to talk to Jax for me."

* * *

><p>Jax had been surprised that Denise had asked him to meet up with her at a diner in Truckee, but had obliged because the woman whom he considered a friend said it was urgent. In any case, he appreciated that Denise didn't ask him to come out to her cabin, where he knew Gemma was staying with her. It was one thing knowing where the woman was. Having to see her was another story entirely.<p>

The surprise of being asked for a meeting, however, was nothing compared to the news she wasted no time in springing on him.

SAMBAY wanted back in.

"You playin' the messenger for them now?" Jax asked incredulously. "I thought you wanted nothin' to do with our shit, Deedee."

"I don't," she said honestly. "But Juice called me a few days ago."

"That's real cute," Jax said with a snide grin. "But I don't really need to know what you and your husband had a heart-to-heart about."

"Chibs got taken in, I footed them some money to get him out. Jarry played them," Denise said honestly. Her bluntness, Jax found, was something that he learned to appreciate. It made everything much easier - but he would've been lying if he said that her particular brand of bluntness didn't stress him out from time to time. "She got into Chibs' head, and they want to clean this up. Get right with you. Juice asked me if I could set something up between you and Chibs -"

"What makes them think I want them back in my charter?" Jax sneered. "I don't need to ride alongside any of those traitors." Denise sighed, shaking her head.

"You need this, don't you?" Denise asked. "You need the numbers."

"Maybe I don't," Jax insisted. "Marks and your brother have left us alone for months."

"Because they think you're not a threat anymore - I don't know what the fuck is happening," Denise said, her eyebrows leaping. "But if you think that their beef with you is over, you're kidding yourself, Jax. You and I both know that's not how they operate."

The pair sat in the booth of the diner, and Jax stared Denise down as though he expected her to take back what she'd said - but he knew better. Denise Ortiz never went back on her word, and she certainly never took it back. But most importantly, he knew how much she valued her daughter - Denise would never stick her neck out like this and risk _leaving_ her daughter for something she didn't truly believe needed to be done. Denise Ortiz was quite likely one of his best friends at this point, and she had a way with those doll-eyes of her of talking him into things, of convincing him that whatever she wanted was the best choice... and admittedly, it often was.

"Alright," he said, his voice barely audible. "You and Juice set something up, since I know you're talkin' again. Tell me when and where - but make sure Chibs knows that if he wants back in, he needs to get right with me. He needs to get right with me for each body he took from my club. Got that?"

And within the week, much to the relief of everyone in SAMBAY, Denise found herself back in Charming at the old hall - the same place where she and Juice had their wedding reception - armed and standing outside of the locked door with Juice like some kind of bouncer; she had been given explicit directions by Jax to make sure his meeting with Chibs had no interruptions.

"Thank you," Juice said, his arms crossed over himself. "For setting this up, I mean."

"Yeah, of course," Denise nodded, taking off her jacket and dropping it into the hood of her car with a soft thud, then lifting herself to take a seat on it. "I mean, I hoped you'd all get right with each other soon." She drew her legs up so that her feet rested on her front bumper, giving a slightly sigh.

"How's Sofia?" Juice asked eagerly. At this, Denise's face finally broke into a smile as it often did whenever the opportunity arose for her to talk about her daughter.

"She's great," Denise beamed. "Just had her try her first veggies this week. Spinach," she said, making a slight grimace. "She loves it - I think she gets that from you. But it's such a mess, it gets everywhere. I wanted to start her on something that doesn't stain. Apples or bananas or something. But you know, they say you always start the babies with a veggie, or they'll start liking sweets too much -"

"Could I feed her?" Juice interrupted, catching Denise by surprise. "I - I was at Wal-Mart. I bought one of those Magic Bullet gadgets that makes baby food because I figured if she ever comes over, I could make her somethin'."

Denise paused, and Juice worried for a moment that she was going to say no until she slowly nodded. "Yeah. Maybe she could... spend a weekend or something?" Denise suggested. She couldn't help but smile in response to the elated expression that glazed over Juice's face at the suggestion that his daughter could spend a whole weekend with him, and he ran his hands over the sides of his head before clasping them behind his neck and letting out a breath.

"Shit - really?" he asked excitedly. "I - you have no idea how much I'd like that, Dee."

"I think I do," she laughed, shaking her head. "Anyway, I want her to spend some time with you. Get to know you. Sometime soon."

There was a brief silence, and Juice reverted to an array of awkward tics - clearing his throat, shuffling his feet, cracking his knuckles - until Denise let out a small gasp and shifted so she could reach into the pocket of the jacket she was sitting on and hold something out to Juice.

"I figured I'd be seeing you today, so I brought you something," she said, holding out a keychain in his direction. He plucked it from her hand and glanced it over, realize that it was a picture of a footprint in a plastic case with a name printed across the bottom: Sofia Xiu Kwan Ortiz.

"From the hospital, when Fifi was born," Denise said with a lopsided grin, pulling out her own keys to reveal that she had one too. "Mommy gets right foot, daddy gets left foot. I thought it was cute. It's corny, though -"

"Nah, no way, I love you -" Juice interrupted, realizing only too late that he had slipped in his response when he saw the surprised expression on Denise's face. "It. I love it," he corrected, going somewhat red in the face. There was another silence until finally both of them managed to laugh nervously, shaking their heads at one another.

Was this really Juice? Denise wondered. It felt like ages ago, but she remembered very well that once upon a time, she had been able to talk to him about anything, to tell him anything. She opened her mouth to try and say something to alleviate the awkward tension that seemed to bubble over in every silence despite all of their best attempts, but, sparing her the futile effort, the door to the hall burst open.

Juice winced at the sight of Chibs, sporting a bloody, bruised face, emerging from the room, but the fact that he and Jax walked out side-by-side and the President's patch was ripped off of Chibs' kutte seemed to be a good sign. Jax, on the other hand, walked straight to Denise, reaching out and clapping a hand on her shoulder. He knew from the expression on her face that she was slightly queasy, that this was the part she would likely never get used to.

"Thanks for this, Dee," he said simply, kissing the side of her head - despite the fact that Jax did this with practically everyone he considered a close friend, which Denise had no doubt become in the past months, Juice felt a swell of envy, and he fought back the involuntarily curling of his upper lip, instead turning to Chibs and eyeing the wounds on his face.

"You good, then?" he asked Chibs.

"Yeah, we're good," Jax supplied for him, still standing by Denise at her car. "Round up your boys, we're goin' to church, a-sap. We got plenty to talk about." Jax waited until Juice nodded in comprehension before looking back towards Denise, crossing his arms. "Listen, Wendy's busy tonight and I know Lyla can only watch the kids until six. Do you mind swoopin' the boys for a few hours when you pick up Fifi? I'm not stickin' them with some croweater if Aunt Deedee's in town."

"Yeah, of course -"

"You mean, Sofia's here?" Juice spoke up suddenly, his face brightening despite the fact that he was helping Chibs get cleaned up from what had to have been a fairly brutal beatdown. "Do you think you could..." his voice trailed off, and he scratched his neck when Denise arched an eyebrow gently. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Maybe you could bring her by the house once church is done - before you leave town again? I can make dinner."

There was a pause, and Denise inhaled with a short sniff that only Jax could hear, concealing a smile before answering, "Okay."

Juice and Chibs went off to get a head start so Chibs could get himself cleaned up first, and Jax sent a call out to his guys to let them know to be at the clubhouse as soon as they could - once he was off the phone, he glanced over at Denise with a questioning expression. "So, you and Juice. You two seem friendly again - do I wanna touch that one?"

"Not with a ten-foot pole," Denise smirked. Jax chuckled, shaking his head.

"Dee. You're the best friend I've got outside of the club. You know that I keep it one-hundred with you - _always,"_ Jax began, raising his eyebrows. "You've been there for my boys, for me, for everybody - and I would never say anything that I thought would mess that up."

"Uh oh," she sighed. "Am I in trouble?"

"I'm serious, Dee. Bad blood aside, I give the guy credit, you know - not hunting you down. I know Juice wanted to," Jax said, his expression uncharacteristically soft. "Every single time I was in the same place as the guy, it's like he was looking around to see if you might be close by. But he took it to heart when you said being VP of SAMBAY was no good for your baby. Stepped back because it was the right thing to do. I respect that."

Denise gave a sad smile and nodded vaguely. "I do too."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Looks like things are starting to fall back into place in Charming. I suggest you enjoy the slow burn of Juice and Denise warming up to one another again, because it's not always going to be this calm for them. Fear not, though. I still have plenty of fluff to keep you going for a while. Thank you, as always, to my amazing reviewers!_

_The next chapter contains one event in particular that I was really on the fence about including - but just trust that it's something vital to the progression of the storyline, and that it'll help make the story better. I'm making small changes to the storyline as I go, so updates might be a little slower while I tweak bits and pieces, but I strive for consistency! Cheers!_


	4. Chapter 4

"I know, baby, I know - we're going inside now to see Daddy!"

Denise was in the process of pulling baby Sofia out of her carseat, outside of Juice's house - the house that she'd once considered her own home too. She hadn't been back in a year, but it still looked very much the same. She stood at the sidewalk where she had parked with the baby in her arms, feeling a sense of trepidation when it came to actually going back inside, but with a few deep, heaving breaths, she made her way up the front walkway, awkwardly using her elbow to ring the doorbell.

The smile on Juice's face when he saw that they had actually shown up was nothing short of a sunrise, and in spite of herself, Denise found herself smiling widely too when she saw him. There was something strangely natural about the situation, because with Sofia babbling and cooing the entire time, there was hardly any time for awkward silences.

Juice had gone into the kitchen to test out the baby food he had been working on making - boiled and pureed spinach. He didn't divulge to Denise, of course, that he'd had to play with the amount and with the little machine itself quite a few times while home alone to get it right, and he'd needed to eat all of those test batches. He was in the process of getting it ready, while Denise stood leaning against the kitchen counter next to him, bouncing Sofia with a bright smile on her face.

"Hey, baby, you wanna show Daddy your favorite noise?" she said, her eyes twinkling with a kind of life and vibrance that Juice had to admit had been missing from her in the last days they had been together - being apart and having their daughter had, somehow, turned her into something more whole and more beautiful than she had been before. "Show Daddy bubbles! Bbbbbtttt!"

Denise made a comical blubbering motion with her lips, which baby Sofia immediately imitated with an excited squeal, albeit spritzing baby drool, mostly in Juice's direction as he was approaching with a spponful of baby food. He groaned, but laughed nonetheless, brandishing the spoon gently in his daughter's direction.

"Say ah! C'mon, sweetheart! Numnums!" he beamed, and Denise watched him with a distant smile until he looked back at her with a devilish smirk as Sofia happily chomped down on the mouthful of spinach. "Babygirl, show Mommy bubbles!"

Juice made the same blubbering noise, and again, Sofia imitated the action, this time looking at her mother and spraying a mess of spinach all over the place. Denise let out a small yelp, and Juice laughed heartily as he took Sofia from Denise's arms, giving her a chance to wipe her face.

"Juice, you're such an idiot," she laughed, wiping her sleeve across her cheeks and trying to get what she could off.

This, Juice thought as he watched her actually smiling, actually laughing, was the way things were supposed to be.

Eventually, Denise realized that she probably was better off not having chunks of pureed spinach sticking to her, and so she excused herself to the bathroom to wash up - Juice called after her that she still had shirts in the closet, and she briefly froze in her tracks. Juice's breath hitched as he clung to his daughter a little more tightly, afraid that he'd crossed a line and had spooked her, like she was some kind of nervous doe, but when she simply proceeded down the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief.

While Denise was washing up in the bathroom, Juice settled onto the couch and kicked his feet up, letting Sofia lay down on her stomach atop his chest - and for the first time, he got to simply stare at her. Her one baby tooth that just barely peeked out from her gums when she smiled, her big brown eyes, her dark hair. He remembered, when he had first learned that Denise was going to have a baby, that he had hoped the baby looked like him, that the baby was a total Ortiz. Now, however, looking at baby Sofia, who was almost a perfect half-and-half of himself and Denise, he found that this was ten times better. She was the inextricable connection between him and his wife, the means of having Denise in his life again.

"You're my little princess," he beamed, reaching up and gently smoothing a hand over Sofia's hair before gently kissing her head. "Daddy loves you - daddy loves you, and mommy." Sofia let out a loud squeal of delight, as though she actually understood, and Juice grinned at her, which only made her more excited.

"You're really good with her," Denise said, coming up behind the back of the couch and leaning gently. "She knew you were Daddy right away."

For a short while, she simply watched them playing - the two people she cared about more than anything in the world, finally both in the same place. Seeing that she seemed to have, in some capacity, softened up a little, Juice felt a strange sort of boldness. He cleared his throat - the vibration and rumbling it caused in his chest caused Sofia to laugh and pound on him with her tiny fists - and looked up at Denise.

"Can you two stay over tonight?" Juice asked suddenly. Denise blinked gently in disbelief, and her eyebrows crept upward in barely restrained surprise. He looked away momentarily and let out a breath. "I mean, if you're busy or you got other things to do -"

"No, no, it's not that," Denise said quickly. "It's just - well, I'm not used to..."

Juice frowned slightly at her pause. "Not used to what?"

"Well, at home, we have this little thing that goes in the bed that's kinda like a pen, so she can sleep in the bed next to me," Denise rambled with a nervous laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear. "So, I - well, I've never gone to sleep without her next to me since I was born..."

Again, the strange silence settled between them as they mentally tried to hash out where the conversation was going from here. To Juice's surprise, Denise was the first to break the stalemate with a solution.

"Well," she said carefully, scratching the back of her neck and looking away nervously. "I mean, she could sleep - between us. I mean, we could -"

"Sleep together?"

"Yeah, I mean -"

Juice and Denise both looked away from each other, and neither felt much like a mature adult at this moment. It took a few seconds of pointed throat-clearing and deep breaths before they could look at each other again.

"That... that would work," Juice nodded stiffly, trying not to smile.

Getting settled into bed for the evening, as it turned out, was another exercise in awkwardness. Denise felt awkward going into the closet and finding some of her clothes still in it - and not covered in dust, either. Still, she had settled into a t-shirt and cotton shorts that she'd left behind, the ones that had always been her favorite, and Juice had changed into a pair of basketball shorts without a shirt. He had thrown the extra pillows off of the bed at Denise's request, and after some awkward, almost dance-like shuffling, they were both on the bed with Sofia squirming and giggling in between them in her pajamas.

Denise settled comfortably on her side with Sofia's bottle and directed Juice to pat the baby's hip gently and rhythmically. Sofia's squirming immediately calmed, and Denise immediately began humming a song that Juice recognized - vaguely at first, but he grinned widely when Denise began singing the words to their daughter as well. Eventually, he joined her in the chorus of what he found out was their daughter's favorite lullaby - Carry On My Wayward Son.

There was something strangely sweet about it, Denise's soft, feminine voice crooning the song softly to the baby as she drifted off to sleep.

"She snores like you," Juice joked quietly once Sofia had completely fallen asleep. Denise rolled her eyes with a lopsided grin. The pair laughed gently, and suddenly, Juice found himself, in this moment of fleeting contentment, unable to restrain himself from speaking up again. "I wanna be like this. A family," he said suddenly. "I wanna be like this all the time."

Denise smiled back distantly and, after a short hesitation, reached out and briefly placed her hand on top of Juice's, giving him a small squeeze before withdrawing. "Maybe soon," she said quietly.

* * *

><p>It was probably for the best that Denise woke up before Juice the next morning and slinked away with Sofia into the living room to prep a bottle for her - falling asleep in the same bed was one thing, but waking up together was, strangely enough, something even more emotional. Those had always been the times that they'd felt the closest, the bleary-eyed, half-awake morning hours before getting up.<p>

Sofia was having a particularly fussy morning, and Denise grimaced when she heard a knock on the door - she knew from experience, albeit long ago, that knocks on the door usually heralded cops, or club business. Rather than waking Juice, however, she moved to answer the door herself.

"Chibs."

She blinked incredulously as she opened the door, greeted by the sight of Chibs Telford, covered in what looked like blood. Denise instinctively turned her daughter away from him so not to look at him before nodding for him to go inside.

"Juice is sleeping, what the h-e-l-l happened?" Denise asked - Chibs chuckled slightly at the fact that Denise actually spelled out the more delicate language while her daughter was around. Before Sofia, Chibs knew that Denise was capable of cursing it up with the best of them.

"It's not as bad as you're thinking," he explained. "Just sending Althea a message from the club. Jax just gave me a -"

"A test," Denise supplied knowingly. "Jesus Christ."

"You're starting to sound like him," Chibs pointed out. "Not sure if that's a good sign, lass."

"Did you -"

"I didn't hurt her - just wrecked her house -"

"So her furniture bled all over you?" Denise asked, her eyes narrowed as she covered her daughter's ears. Chibs, for the first time, truly saw the distaste she held for him in her expression.

"Rush."

"Excuse me?"

"Her dog, Rush," Chibs explained, his gaze downcast. "Good dog. Protective of his master - he knew there was an intruder and..."

Denise inhaled sharply through her nostrils, shaking her head. She felt on some level that she shouldn't have been relieved that no people had been hurt, but at the same time, any unnecessary lives lost were hurtful. She sat down on the couch with Sofia, bouncing her gently. But, even more than that, she was disappointed in Jax. She thought she had talked him out of vengeance. While this was a far cry from the vengeance he would have once demanded against Jarry, and a far less difficult test of loyalty for Chibs to simply break into a home and vandalize it, she thought she had talked him out of it.

"You should get cleaned up," Denise said shortly, unable to look at the older man. He wordlessly complied, but soon came out to join her again, sitting down on the armchair across from her.

For the first time, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, making eye contact with the younger woman. "You hate me, lass. I can see it."

"Not anymore," Denise replied simply, holding her daughter a little more closely nonetheless. "But I did. There was a while where I was pretty sure you had ripped my family apart -"

"You made that decision," Chibs pointed out. "You decided to leave."

"You decided to break off from SAMCRO," Denise retorted. "So unless you're about to defend that decision and say that you were right to do it, don't start with me, Chibs."

He chuckled - she still had the same fire to her. Perhaps even more, he realized, now that she was a mother. It dawned on him just how brave the girl was - the fact that she was here in Juice's house was proof enough that she still wanted to be around him, and she had given that up for the sake of her daughter. Because of his poor decision. And then, the instant there was trouble, she had been the one to come back with solutions.

"Thank you," he said in a barely audible voice, looking down at his shoes. Denise stiffened, and before she could reply, Chibs held up his hand. "I know you didn't do it for me - getting me out of jail, setting up the meeting with Jackson. I know you did it for Juice, because he asked it of you. But thank you all the same."

Denise nodded silently, the quiet punctuated only by Sofia's babbling. It was possibly even more surreal finding peace with Chibs than it was reconciling with Juice because with Juice, Denise knew that a part of her had always expected it. She had never expected Chibs to extend an olive branch, even something as small as a 'thank you'.

"I love Jackson. He's my brother," Chibs spoke up suddenly, his gaze fierce. "But lovin' someone doesn't make you a saint. It's not some kind of magic that turns you sinless."

"I know that."

"I'm not sure you do," Chibs interrupted. "Juice loves you. Be forgivin' with him, aye?"

"He and I are good. We're fine," Denise said, her eyes narrowing slightly at the direction of the conversation. "You don't need to-"

"He wants you in his life. He'll screw up time and time again, it's what he does," Chibs continued. "But he will always love you. Always want to get right with you. We had you to help rebuild the bridge between Jax and I. But the boy has no one to help him rebuild that bridge with you. He's doing what he can. Don't make him do penance for my sins, lass."

* * *

><p>If Juice had been worried that Denise and his daughter would fade away again, that the one moment of happiness was merely a fluke, those worries were quickly alleviated. Whether because of Chibs' advice or not, Denise started coming through Charming on the weekends fairly regularly, even leaving Sofia with Juice from time to time when she had photoshoots that brought her through town. Once, she had even brought by a framed photo of Sofia at Juice's request that he kept on the shelf in his living room. Eventually, he vowed, he'd have a picture with them both - with his wife and his daughter, all of them together.<p>

While Juice was quickly growing closer and closer to his daughter, however, Denise still kept an amiable distance from him - the occasional fleeting glance that Juice knew well enough how to interpret, sure, but always keeping distance.

One evening after a particularly long wedding shoot in Modesto, she came back to pick up Sofia - she had expected to perhaps see Jax there, because since Juice had Sofia, Jax had decided to leave the boys there for the day so that Juice could play nanny rather than accompany them on a run. When she saw that a formidable number of bikes were parked outside, however, she felt her body tense up. The entire club was there.

Denise, glad that she'd worn sensible shoes that day, practically sprinted up the steps and in the unlocked door, glancing around the room at the familiar faces, many of which she hadn't seen in many months as well.

"What's going on?" she asked, feeling her chest sag in relief when she saw Juice holding their daughter, who was happy and fidgety as ever. "What's everyone doing here?"

"It's Unser," Jax said gruffly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He's been MIA for about two weeks now - we just found out he checked himself into a hospital. St. Rose's in Hayward where nobody was gonna find him... he's gone."

Denise let out a small gasp, clapping her hand over her mouth. "The... the cancer?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. Wayne Unser had just been so resilient, they'd nearly forgotten he was sick at all. "Oh my god..."

"He didn't want anyone knowin'... didn't want anyone to see him go," Jax said, shaking his head. This, Denise realized, explained all of the grim faces. She shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, letting out a breath and processing the news before a realization dawned on her.

"I... I'm gonna need to tell Gemma," she said carefully, mentioning the woman in front of Jax for the first time. "She's gonna wanna know -"

"I don't really care what she wants," Jax said shortly. Abel was sleeping on the couch, and just the small boy's presence was reason enough to keep him from saying exactly what he thought of the idea. Denise, however, pursed her lips and exhaled through her nostrils.

"Jax, this isn't about you," she said gently. "He cared about her too. He'd want her there."

"Well, I don't."

"Then at your funeral, you can make that call," Denise hissed, her eyes narrowed in challenge though her voice didn't jump the slightest in volume. "This isn't about you, Jax."

Jax's expression was stony and blank for a moment before resignation set in, and he shook his head with a sigh. Another point for the Chinadoll. "Okay," he said throatily. "I'll let you know the details. For the funeral and everything, okay? You deal with this. You should get going, it's gettin' late."

"I..." Denise cleared her throat. "I actually was going to head back... in the morning..."

Jax's eyebrows rose in slight surprise as he processed the statement - Denise was _staying_ here. "Do I wanna touch that one?"

"Not with a ten-foot pole," Denise said with a vague smile, walking over and collecting Sofia from Juice's arms. "But you all look exhausted. Maybe you're the ones who should get going."

"Yeah," Jax shrugged. "Yeah, you're right." He walked over and kissed the side of Sofia's head, muttering, "Bye, princess."

Again, Juice felt his hackles raise at the fact that Jax called his daughter 'princess' - of course, he would be close to the girl. Sofia had known Uncle Jackie for longer than she'd known Daddy, and whether Juice liked it or not, he would never push someone out of his daughter's life who genuinely cared about her. That didn't mean, however, that he had to be happy about it. Chibs shot Juice a pointed glance, however, and leaned over to mutter in his ear before following the rest of the men out the door, "Not the time, boyo. Not the time."

And indeed, Juice was content to let this one slide for the time being, because he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth - it was fairly miraculous enough that Denise from time to time actually came back with his daughter, stayed the night, sometimes even in the same bed. He wanted so badly to touch her, to hold her like he used to, but he felt secure simply having faith that such things would come in time.

Tonight in particular, Denise looked particularly perturbed by Wayne Unser's death after everyone had left. She sat with Sofia on her lap while Juice sat in the armchair across from her.

Denise had never been particularly close with Unser, but their limited interactions had always been amiable - Unser had always said that Denise was refreshing to be around because she simply wasn't as much trouble as the boys of SAMCRO and the women that usually came with them. She was young and simple, and in what turned out to be the twilight years of his life, it was probably what the former sheriff needed. Maybe, she mused to herself, she should have been around more.

"I guess... I should call Gemma," she said gently after a short while, during which she had shifted so she was lying down on the sofa and Sofia was nestled warmly onto her chest. Juice gave a silent nod, and moved over to pick up their daughter without waking her, but in the process, the sides of his knuckles brushed gently across Denise's collarbone. She gave a small gulp, and Juice struggled to keep from reacting.

It wasn't until he had scooped up Sofia and turned to walk off towards the bedroom, away from Denise, that he allowed a small smile to cross his face, knowing that he still had some kind of effect on her.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So, this chapter was a little all over the place, but I hope you guys didn't get yanked around too much. Please don't hate me for what happened to Unser! It's probably a very unorthodox story choice, I haven't seen a lot of "Unser dies" storylines. But please stick with me on this one! I know character death is a very touchy topic for a lot of people. But, just hold on tight and stay on the ride._

_I also want to thank my reviewers, of course, and all my readers for sticking with me, even with my unreliable updating schedule. I've been doing a little bit of publicity work for my original fiction work as well, but I won't do shameless plugging here. Just wanted to make some excuses for where my time has been lately!_

_Anyway, stick around for the ride, I promise it's going to be worth it! Cheers!_


	5. Chapter 5

It seemed appropriate that it had rained the night before Wayne Unser's funeral - a surprising number of people came by the cemetery to pay their last respects to the former sheriff, plodding through the damp earth with wet squelches of their shoes. Denise had bundled Sofia up, a bit more than she needed to, and was standing next to Juice, who kept an eye on his daughter more than anything else - any suspicious sniffle or sneeze from the little girl, and he was apt to bring her straight back to the car rather than risk her catching a cold.

The most jarring part of the funeral, however, was the fact that Gemma Teller-Morrow - per Wayne Unser's last request - was one of the people asked to say a few words before his coffin was lowered to its final resting place.

"Wayne was... a good man. A good friend," Gemma began carefully, hardly able to look up at everyone around her, her eyes instead planted on the coffin, ready to be lowered and buried. There were too many people, she knew, who didn't want her there, who likely wished it was her being put into the ground instead. "He was everything you needed him to be. I always thought maybe he was a little too good for Charming, but he always stuck around," she laughed sadly. "Always - always gave, even when he knew he would never get anything in return..."

Gemma surprised even herself when her voice caught in her throat - an unexpected sob came over her. No one stepped forward to comfort her, and she slowly regained her composure on her own. "He was always so good to the people who least deserved it. Least deserved him," she finished. "We're gonna miss you, honey. All of us. I'm gonna miss you," she said finally, placing a lily down on top of the casket.

Juice reflexively put his arm around Denise when he found that she let out a sob as well. Even Jax looked over, finally realizing how deep of a connection Denise had formed to his mother that when Gemma cried, it affected Denise more than it did anyone else. He realized that in the year out in Nevada, Gemma had been a mother to her - and he knew that there were shining moments, even if in recent years they had been few and far between, that she was a mother for the history books.

Denise held her daughter a little more closely, and she didn't recoil this time from Juice's arm, instead leaning in closer to him and allowing him to simply support her, even if just for now. He silently reveled in the warmth of her, standing this close to him, but it was marred by the fact that her lithe form still shook with each sniffle.

After the final blessings were said and the casket was finally lowered into the ground, the small crowd had started to file away - Juice still had his arm around Denise and he felt her flinch when a voice spoke up, approaching them from the outskirts of the crowd and walking up from behind.

"Is this my niece, Meimei?"

Denise's head whipped around, and her gazy grew cold at the sight of her brother, Charles - and the fact that he now stood on the right-hand side of a dark-skinned man, clad in a long black coat and dark sunglasses, which he removed slowly and deliberately to reveal his face. August Marks. Denise clutched Sofia closer, and her entire body stiffened protectively.

At the sight of the meeting, Jax too walked briskly over, leaving his sons with the other SAMCRO members and Wendy.

"Charles," Denise said coolly. "What are you doing here?"

"Miss Jarry informed us about Mister Unser's unfortunate passing," Marks said evenly. Jax's eyes drifted instinctively over to Chibs for barely a second before returning to Marks, who he seemed reluctant to take his eye off of - August Marks would have no qualms, even at a man's funeral, raising hell if it was necessary. "Mister Kwan and I came to pay our last respects."

Denise felt her hackles raising for the first time in many months - they had left her alone for so long, left all of Charming alone. She knew that this had to mean something else was in the works, but she would have been damned if she said she didn't hope for some better resolution.

"Well, you've paid them," Jax said through slightly gritted teeth. "So there's no need to hold up the rest of your day. Is there, gentlemen?"

"I suppose not, Jackson," Marks said, his gaze locked on Jax just as Charles' was locked on Denise. Juice again felt the unpleasant but all-too-familiar sense of helplessness, of being an outsider. Marks, however, gave a curt nod and gestured for Charles to follow him away, and they returned to their car without another word. Jax stared after them for a few moments, just as the rest of their party came plodding on over to join them.

"Deedee," he said, his jaw set and his watching Marks and Charles drive away from the cemetery, "I think it's time you settled back here in Charming where we can keep an eye on you."

Normally, Denise would have bristled at the idea that she needed someone to keep an eye on her, but she was so unsettled, seeing Charles again for the first time since their last very unfortunate meeting that had left her with a burn scar which went up her entire left side. She inhaled sharply at its mere memory and glanced at Juice for a moment before Abel spoke up.

"Please, Aunt Deedee?" he said, leaving Wendy's side for a moment to reach out and tug on Denise's sleeve. "Then you can come and watch me play baseball every time. You and grandma."

All eyes went to Gemma, who was standing a short ways away but close enough to hear everything, then to Jax. Denise inhaled sharply and glanced back and forth between them a few times before her gaze settled on Jax, whose nostrils flared slightly before he could manage to look his mother square in the eye for the first time in a long time. His jaw clenched, and Abel's forehead wrinkled, not comprehending that look that Daddy was giving Grandma.

"Daddy?" he asked, walking over and grabbing Jax's hand. "Please."

"I don't have anywhere to sleep at night, sweetheart," Gemma said, her voice clearly tight and tortured at being forced to say it to her grandson. "But... maybe one day, I can come and visit."

It was often said that time healed all wounds, but Jax had never put effort into rebuilding this burned bridge in particular. Gemma was his mother, but she had also killed his wife. He harbored that anger against her, but his sons loved her. It was a precarious balance to maintain, but he knew also that he too had covered for her - he, too, had hidden her crime. He could have made things right, and he knew that, but Jax had consciously chosen to do exactly the same as Juice did. First and foremost because he didn't want to close the window of opportunity for revenge against the Triads, but on some level, because she was still his mother.

"We'll... find you a place to stay," he nodded, causing a small gasp to leave Gemma's lips. Granted, it was not an invitation to come home, but it was a concession - it was permission to not be dead to her grandchildren, to resume some semblance of her life..

"But why can't she stay with us?" Abel asked, his brow furrowing deeply. There were a few hesitant back and forth glances among the group, knowing they couldn't simply tell him the root of Jax's anger towards her.

"Because," Jax began carefully, his eyes focused and locked on Gemma's. "Your grandma's sick. She's very, very sick and she can't be with us until she gets better."

The cluster of mourners slowly began dispersing - Denise hung back slightly, glancing at Gemma with a worried expression, but the older woman assured her she'd be fine at a motel, or if push came to shove, inside the office at TM. Though this answer seemed less than satisfactory, Denise knew that there were limitations in there situation, and as close as she was to Gemma, she had to respect that boundaries Jax needed from her.

Denise felt strangely numb as she drove back to Juice's house with Sofia - he had sped ahead and gotten there first, so he was standing on the front porch waiting for them before going inside.

"This is a first," he said with a lopsided grin. "I don't think I've ever gotten somewhere before you."

"I don't think Fifi's designed to withstand my top speeds quite yet," she replied weakly, hurrying up the steps so she could get her daughter in out of the nippy outside air. Juice followed her and staood behind her, lingering so that Denise could practically feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. "So..." she began hesitantly. "I know I didn't get a chance to ask when Jax brought it up, but... is it okay if Fifi and I..."

Her voice trailed off, and Juice smiled boyishly, even if Denise couldn't see him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded.

"You know you always have a home here," Juice said. Denise, unable to stop herself from a small smile, concealed the fact by pressing a kiss into Sofia's hair before turning back to face Juice.

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Short update this time, because this was originally squished in with the next chapter, but it felt a little better as its own episode. The next chapter has some news that will kick off a little more story action. That chapter should be posted soon, I've just had a hectic time of things over the holiday and wanted to at least give you something to keep you busy. I should be getting back to my usual updating routine soon! Cheers!_


	6. Chapter 6

When Denise Ortiz's car came puttering back into town with a U-Haul trailer hitched onto the back, the buzz around Charming was fierce. Just weeks after Wayne Unser's passing, which admittedly shook the town, the rich city girl that had shacked up with Juice came back from a long disappearance, and that in and of itself was gossip-worthy. What made matters even more worthy of discussion was the fact that SAMCRO had all showed up to the Ortiz household to help her move in. Two of the old SAMBAY prospects had decided to stick around and continue prospecting for SAMCRO - Denise knew them only as Flick and Brucey. Being the new kids on the block, they were given the none-too-coveted task of assembling the crib and setting up the nursery, which was being set up in the spare room.

Juice, in particular, seemed to pop up every time Denise moved to try and pick up so much as a desk lamp or a diaper bag. She seemed slightly jarred by the idea of people having to help her with things, having been doing them on her own for so long.

"You just stay there and look pretty, Chinadoll," Tig said to her with a snide smirk, earning him an only half-joking sock on the shoulder. Hard-headed as ever, Denise moved to pick up a canary-yellow backpack containing most of Sofia's clothes, only to find a strong, calloused hand reaching out to take it from her. Denise shifted Sofia in her arms and turned to find Happy pulling the bag away, slinging it over his own shoulder. The contrast of the baby-yellow bag with chubby cartoon ducks on it, slung over the shoulder of the Tacoma Killa, was enough to elicit a snort of laughter from the woman.

"That's a good look on you and all, Hap, but I've really got it -"

"You let the men be gentlemen, _Chinita_. Doesn't happen often, so you might as well make the most of it."

At the sound of the nickname that only one person used for her, Denise turned again to see Nero, carrying a small box under one arm that contained a lot of Denise's camera accessories. He gave a lopsided grin and slung his free arm around Denise's shoulder in a brief hug. Nero Padilla, like Gemma, had always had a bit of a soft spot for the girl - but Nero's reasoning was very different indeed. Despite the rocky nature of his opinion of Juice, Nero's attitude toward Mrs. Ortiz had developed into a certain kind of fondness. There was a sort of innocence to her, he observed, and a sense of principle and honor that he knew very well was difficult to maintain in a place like Charming. He placed the box down for the time being and crossed his arms, looking at Baby Sofia with a certain fondness that one simply could tell came only from someone who loved and appreciated babies - appreciated innocence, more than anything.

"I think sitting around and watching everyone move my stuff for me is a even more tiring than doing it myself," Denise admitted with a laugh as Nero nodded to a clear spot away from the bustle of the men moving Denise's things back into Juice's house. Nero chuckled as well as he reached out to gently ruffle Sofia's hair.

"Well, it's not often we have two pretty ladies move into town like this," he grinned. "You know, the guys have always had a - a woman's touch to balance things out. It's been rough on everyone, not havin' any proper old ladies. Closest they've had is Wendy, and -"

"And Jax keeps her at arm's length, I know," Denise supplied. "It's a shame, though."

"You shouldn't touch that one, Chinita," Nero chuckled. "She does what she can. But ain't nothin' the same as havin' a real ol' lady around. A real Mama."

Denise sensed the weight of Nero's words when he spoke, and she tilted her head, raising an eyebrow gently. She glanced around, making sure everyone was at a safe distance before she leaned towards Nero and spoke in a low voice that he only barely heard.

"She's staying at the motel near Lumpy's - room 19," Denise said quietly with a knowing smile. "I think she could use a little more help - I've got plenty of hands on deck here."

Nero laughed quietly, shaking his head in slight disbelief before looking at Denise with a questioning expression. "You're back in town for five minutes and already, you're tryin' to fix things," he chuckled. "You sure you're good here?"

"Yeah," Denise said with a smile, bouncing Sofia slightly as she started to get slightly squirmy. "We're good here. She's gonna need somebody too. Knock twice, then knock four times. She'll open the door then."

Nero leaned over and placed a kiss on both Denise and Sofia's foreheads before walking back towards his car, leaving Denise with a knowing grin on her face. Maybe it was true, she pondered, that people who were supposed to be together always found their way back to each other in the end.

"All done!"

Denise looked back over her shoulder at the sound of a voice and saw that the guys had indeed managed to take all of her things out of the U-Haul trailer and put them inside of the the Ortiz house. Her house. She inhaled deeply and started walking towards the house again when Juice emerged ahead of the others, looking at her with a grin.

"Welcome home, Dee."

Denise gave a watery smile and was surprised that for whatever reason, she felt pressure welling up behind her eyes, just as the others came up behind Juice so that they all were gathered and squeezed onto the porch.

"See?" Tig smirked. "Things happen quick when you let the men do their job."

"Yeah, until she needs to bail one of our ugly mugs outta jail," Chibs supplied throatily, and for the first time, Denise actually smiled at something he said. It brought a broad grin to Juice's face, and he inhaled with a deep, chest-heaving breath as he crossed his arms.

"How 'bout we leave you to get settled back in?" Jax said, reaching over and clapping a hand on Denise's shoulder. "Is it okay if Wendy brings the boys by later? Abel's been wantin' to see those pictures you took of him, kid's startin' to be a real ham."

"Sure," Denise and Juice both answered, unintentionally in unison. They glanced at one another and, after a moment of tentative silence, laughed somewhat nervously.

"Aight," Jax chuckled, glancing between the two of them. "You crazy kids stay outta trouble."

Denise soon realized, however, that being in the same space with Juice like this again was going to be more strange than even she had expected. Once they were alone in the house, unpacking some of the miscellaneous boxes while Sofia was down for a nap, Denise paused from her own unpacking when she noticed Juice pause first, staring at the contents one box in particular that was labeled, "Fifi's room" - Sofia, of course, never actually stayed in her own room because Denise was so attached to her, but she had always had a room for her things, regardless. Denise walked over and realized that Juice was staring into the box at the framed collage of photos that had always hung in Sofia's room. Apart from the obligatory baby photos and scrapbook-esque decorations, was an entire cluster of photos from Juice and Denise's wedding. Denise froze, and let out a small gasp that broke Juice out of his daze.

"I, uh..." Denise said carefully. "Well, I told you she knew your face already, didn't I?"

Juice straightened up and grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. It caused a sense of warmth to pass through him, realizing that Denise hadn't forgotten him during all that time, because he had most assuredly never forgotten her. "Thanks, Dee," he said, shuffling his feet.

"For what?"

"For... I don't know," Juice laughed, slightly embarrassed. "For coming back. For making sure I wasn't a stranger to my own daughter. I never wanted to be that kind of father, you know? I never wanted to be that guy whose kid didn't even know him."

"I know."

That smile, Juice thought as he looked at Denise's face, was probably the most encouraging thing he had seen in a long time.

* * *

><p>Knock two times, then knock four times.<p>

The instructions seemed strange, but Nero Padilla was never one to judge - it wasn't as though he'd never seen anything stranger. He reached the room that Denise had specified to him at the motel, tapped his knuckles on the door twice, paused, then tapped four times. For a few suspenseful moments, there was no response and he worried he had perhaps misheard Denise when the door creaked open, and a woman's voice preceded her appearance in the doorway.

"Jesus, babydoll, I gave you a key -"

Gemma Teller-Morrow froze in surprise at the sight of Nero Padilla - he had used Denise's signature knock, but he certainly was a far cry from the scrawny, dark-haired waif Gemma had been expecting.

"Hey, you."

"Hey," Nero said carefully. "Just came by to say welcome to the neighborhood. Chinita said you could use a hand."

Gemma shrugged noncommittally. "Got a couple boxes thrown into the SUV, but nothin' that can't wait. You wanna come inside?"

"Sure."

The stilted, stiff nature of the exchange as Nero followed Gemma into her motel room was punctuated by the sadness that washed over him when it really hit him that she was staying here. She was in Charming, but not with her family, and he knew perhaps better than anyone how torturous that had to be for her.

"You don't have to stay here, Mama," he said suddenly, his brow furrowing. "Shit - this is no place for you. Why don't you just take your stuff and -"

"Stay with you?" she asked, turning around and raising an eyebrow gently. "Nero, baby - this is me doing penance. This is what I gotta do. After all I've fucked up, I'm lucky that Dee took me as I was, but Jax isn't gonna let things go so easy."

"You shouldn't be in a place like this," Nero insisted, unable to help himself as he reached over, placing his hands on Gemma's shoulders, gripping slightly more tightly than he had probably meant to. "You spent a year away from those boys - that was torture, Mama. That was exile."

"I'm lucky that Jax is even letting me back in this town," Gemma said, her face showing the weariness that Nero already knew that she felt in her situation. "I deserve this, baby. I deserve to be -"

"You say you deserve to be alone, and I swear to God, Mama," he said, shaking his head. "Nobody deserves that."

Nero wrapped his arms around the woman in front of him and simply held her - nothing more. The single gesture, however, coming from someone besides Denise, who had been the only one to show Gemma any warmth whatsoever in the past year, was overwhelming. Gemma found herself crumbling into Nero's embrace, crying into his shoulder and leaning on him for support.

"Shh," he said, planting a kiss on the woman's temple. "You ain't alone, Mama. Never will be."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So, in case you were wondering where the updates have been - I had some of my stuff stolen over the long holiday weekend, including the USB with my chapters on it. I've had to put aside a little extra time to rewrite about 8 chapters, and I've been a little bummed and discouraged so it's been a slow process. I'm hoping to get back to where I was soon, and I'm trying to be optimistic and use this as a chance to make the chapters even better. I wanted to get this update out to you before tonight's episode, and also to make sure you guys knew that I was still alive and haven't forgotten about you!_

_Chapter 8 or 9 in particular, I might have to take a little time with because I was really happy about the way it was written. Some good stuff is crammed into the next chapter, so I want to be sure to get it right! Any pep talks from you all would be much appreciated while I try to bounce back from this (and also try to regenerate some of the work stuff that was on that same USB). Wish me luck! _

_Anyway, Nero/Gemma is indeed going to come into play in this story a little more, as well as another pairing mentioned in this chapter, though that will still be considerably later on. As events get bigger, more of the gang will get pulled in and have some time to shine in the story. So, I will leave you all with this for now. The next chapter will have some new revelations, and cause a big shift in momentum in the story. The relative quiet in the story right now is just the calm before the storm. Anyway, Happy Teller Tuesday and enjoy tonight's episode! Cheers!_


	7. Chapter 7

Even Juice was surprised by how quickly old habits seemed to set back in now that he and Denise were back in the same place. At first, it was the occasional, tiny slip of the tongue. Babe, can you shut the window? Baby, the TV is too loud. The slip-ups were frequent, but often ignored to avoid awkwardness.

One morning in particular, Denise was changing Sofia's diaper when there was a knock on the front door, to which she reflexively called out, "Babe, my hands are full, can you get that?"

Juice grinned a little to himself the way he always did when Denise slipped up that way - it didn't matter if it was just a force of habit, he decided. He just enjoyed hearing it. He hurried to the door and pulled it open to reveal a familiar face attaxched to a salt-and-pepper, balding head of hair. The man at the door was familiar, and it took Juice a few moments to place where he knew this man from.

"Attorney," he nodded politely, gesturing for the man to come inside. He stuck out like a sore thumb in Charming in his pressed suit, with his almost lasciviously polished BMW pulled in behind Denise's well-worn commuter car. Attorney Horkowitz was, Juice finally remembered, the attorney who managed Denise's family estate.

"Is Denise home?" Horkowitz asked primly. "I've been trying to get a hold of her for months."

"Yeah - yeah, she's around," Juice nodded, crossing his arms over himself and standing nearby as the older man sat down on the living room sofa. "Is something the matter? Is this about her brother?"

"Charles? Oh, no - I just have something to give -"

"Attorney Horkowitz!" Denise said, appearing with a surprised expression into the living room, a freshly changed Baby Sofia in tow. "What are you doing here?"

"Miss Kwan -"

"Missus Ortiz," Juice corrected out of habit. Denise reddened slightly and shot a bashful grin in the attorney's direction, turning so Sofia faced him a little as well.

"My family's gotten a little bit bigger since we last spoke," she chuckled, walking closer.

"Well, congratulations! I guess you can consider what I've brought a very late wedding present, then," he chuckled, opening his briefcase and pulling a small envelope out from one of the compartments. He held it out to Denise, but, struggling to keep a hold of an extra squirmy Sofia, who was starting to get antsy because of the new face in the room, Denise nodded for Juice to take it and open it. When Juice revealed the envelope's sole contents to be a single key, Denise cocked her head to one side questioningly.

"Attorney?"

"It's the key to the estate in Tiburon - I must have neglected to give it to you before, it was still in the safety deposit box when your brother came to collect what was left for him."

Denise felt almost as though she'd been slapped so hard that her head spun - there was so much information crammed into a single statement, she was unsure of what to ask first. "T-tiburon?" she finally stammered unsurely. "I didn't know -"

"Your grandfather lived there before he came to stay with you and your father, I think," Horkowitz nodded carefully, well-aware of the fact that Denise's father and Henry Lin had only been half-brothers. Denise inhaled slowly.

"And Charles has a key too?"

"No - no, the estate was left specifically to you as well, your grandfather made that clear," Horkowitz said, raising his hand. "Charles came by last week to collect the rest of what was remaining of his shares and asked me to check if there was anything in the safety deposit left for him."

"Was there?"

"Unfortunately, no," Horkowitz replied. "He seemed a little put out by it, but very understanding. But if you'd like to hold onto the key, I can send all the paperwork over for it."

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds alright," Denise replied - Juice grimaced at the fact that her voice was distant and confused by the mention of her brother, still clearly bothered by the turn their relationship had taken. "So - no one has been checking up on it? For how long?"

"Well, it may very well be years since it's last gotten a little TLC," Horkowitz said honestly. "Your Uncle had a spare key as well, but I've not heard much from him."

Denise bristled, and nodded with forced calm. "Well," she began, concealing the new tightness in her voice at the mention of her missing Uncle. "It's my responsibility now, so - so I'd be happy. Send everything over anytime."

"Perfect," Horkowitz affirmed before reaching into the briefcase for a pad of Post-It notes and scribbled on it briefly before taking the top note off and placing it on the coffee table. "Then here's the address, and I'll head back to the office and get those mailed off here now that I've tracked you down."

Juice took over in saying a few polite goodbyes to their unexpected visitor while Denise sat down on the couch, holding a much calmer Baby Sofia and staring down at the address scrawled on the Post-It note, her brow furrowed.

There wasn't anything particularly perturbing about anything she'd heard, and a part of her felt guilty for being bothered by it. Juice sat down next to her and collected Sofia from her mother's arms so Denise could pick up the small piece of paper and glance over the address.

"We could go check it out," Juice suggested, his voice slightly muffled as Sofia had playfully squealed and reached out, grabbing his mouth with her tiny hand.

"Yeah," Denise nodded. She inhaled and allowed her shoulders to sag slightly, and she ran her hands over her hair. "I think we should bring Jax. If my Uncle's been there -"

"You think he needs to come?" Juice asked while Sofia had progressed to tugging on his ears.

"If Uncle Henry was doing business there, and Charles is taking that business to Marks, I don't think we should go alone," Denise reasoned, massaging her temples tiredly. Juice felt a pang of sadness as seeing her like this. She'd been so calm, so happy lately, it was almost painful, seeing her burdened with dealing with all of this again. "I don't want Fifi there either, just in case. I'll call Gemma -"

"Gemma?"

Denise looked at Juice with a slightly raised eyebrow and let out a small, exasperated noise.

"I know you don't trust her. None of you do. But she's looked out for me, and she's taken good care of our daughter."

Our daughter. The fact that Denise was able to say it with such ease and comfort was enough to wittle Juice's resolve on the issue down to nothing. Maybe eventually, he thought, he'd even be able to thank Gemma for taking such good care of his wife and daughter, but for now, he hoped that Denise would at least be satisfied with the fact that he was trusting Gemma again, even with a task as seemingly minor as watching Sofia for a while.

* * *

><p>"You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me."<p>

When Juice pulled up alongside Jax, both of them on their bikes and having followed Denise's car through the city, up the Golden Gate Bridge to Tiburon, he was unable to conceal his reaction to the house they pulled up in front in a cul de sac at the top of the hill, overlooking the water.

The estate Denise had inherited wasn't just a house. "This is a fuckin' swag palace," Juice chuckled, walking up behind Denise as Jax walked up last. "This place needs to be on Cribs or somethin'."

Denise, however, was quiet as she fished the key out of her purse. The first thing about the place that jumped out to her was the fact that it was in a state of total disuse, total neglect on the outside, with climbing leaves obstucting large portions of most of the windows.

"You think we're gonna find anythin' out here?" Jax asked impatiently. "If no one's been here, this wild goose chase isn't doin' nothin' for me -"

"If Uncle Henry had a key to this place, I don't think he'd just let it go untouched," Denise spoke up, finally getting the lock unstuck and pushing open the door.

Now, the first thing that caught her attention was the clear discrepancy between the inside an the outside. While the exterior of the home was severely neglected and matched up with the assumption that the place had been untouched for over a decade, the inside seem still lived in to some degree. The layer of dust was nowhere near at thick. It didn't reek of mold or trapped moisture or any type of mice or vermin. Denise pulled out the small flashlights she'd tucked into her bag, realizing the electricity wasn't hooked up, and handed one each to Juice and Jax.

"So we're splitting up in here?" Juice asked. "Didn't either of you two watch scary movies growing up? Scooby Doo? Anything?"

His protests fell on deaf ears, however, as Denise and Jax both seemed incredibly focused on the idea of searching the place. Juice wandered into the kitchen area, Jax, upstairs, while Denise took her flashlight into the hallway leading to the study

She noticed one wall, however, that seemed to have accumulated dust and been affected by the light streaming through the window so that the faded wallpaper, which was only in this hallway, betrayed the presence of an outline behind it. A door. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she placed her free hand on the wall, giving it a formidable shove.

As she had somewhat expected it to, the small section of wall budged, and with another shove, it pushed back on a hinge to reveal a dark set of rickety, ladder-like stairs.

"Ten bucks says that shit leads to a batcave."

Denise whirled around to find Juice behind her, staring down the passageway in awe as well, holding a wastebasket in one hand. "Somebody forgot to take out the trash, it looks like," he said with a smirk. He reached in a produced a slip of paper, which he held pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "Receipt," he said matter-of-factly. "Dated about a year and a half ago - somebody was in here."

A year and a half. Denise's jaw clenched slightly as the possibility dawned on her that her Uncle in fact had been the last one in this house, and that it had been shortly before his death.

Shortly before she had killed him.

Having apparently heard the chatter downstairs, Jax hurried their way so they were all now gathered in front of the dark alcove, with Denise pointing the flashlight down the short spiral staircase.

"I don't suppose we could, I don't know," Denise said, shrinking away slightly, "Pass on going down there?"

Jax looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she grimaced before turning back around to the alcove, the stream of light from her flashlight now joined by the lights of Jax and Juice's flashlights as she took the first step onto the creaky metal staircase.

The stairs led down to a dark room which looked as though it was being used as a second study, but Denise jumped back with a slight gasp when she shone her light onto the far wall and revealed a tapestry with the Lin family name written in Pinyin on the wall - the same symbol the Triads used to represent themselves, and the same symbol burned and scarred into her side, over her ribs. Juice caught her around the shoulders as she stumbled backwards slightly, and she looked downwards in slight embarrassment.

"Go back upstairs -"

"No," Denise said, shaking her head. The fear in her voice from moments earlier was now replaced with a forceful sort of courage, determined to know what this place was used for. She turned her light onto the adjacemt wall and lit up a map hung up with pins, zoomed in on the coast of California.

Denise clambered over to it and squinted, wiping the dust off with her free hand to examine the series of lines and pins that were scattered over it. It took her a moment to realize that a circle drawn in red on the map was drawn right over the town of Charming.

"Jesus Christ..."

Jax walked over, one hand covering his mouth while the other pointed the flashlight at the map on the wall while Juice hung back, staring as though deep in thought. Lin had been using the place as a headquarters, and he'd been making plans about Charming.

"Jax," Juice finally spoke up, finally stepping forward and tapping his finger on the map. "The places where the pins are - you remember those laptops you gave me to hack?"

"What about 'em?"

"The contracts," Juice pointed out. "The deeds of sale and the titles were to put up business fronts in all these cities. Marks is footing the bill for Lin to open up restaurants and clubs in all these places -"

"It's a pipeline."

Jax and Juice turned around, just then realizing that they had pushed Denise out of the way a bit to discuss club business, as she was now standing behind them. But nonetheless, the expression on her face was sharp and scrutinizing as she nudged her way back forward between the two men. She turned quickly and groped around the nearby desk until she found a dull pencil, reaching over and starting to draw a series of circles connecting the pins. Juice let out a small gasp as he realized the connection she was making, while Jax frowned in exasperation.

"How about you walk the guy with the GED through your little art project, Deedee?" he groused impatiently.

"All of these locations where the pins are," Denise said, finally finishing drawing circles down the map clear down to San Diego, "are within a 15 mile radius from the major highways up and down the state."

"So they're running the guns -"

"Guns?" Denise asked, her brow furrowing as she realized she was in way over her head when it came to club business. "Uncle Henry dealt in fake money and hookers -"

"I had no idea you two were so close," Jax pointed out, raising his eyebrows. Denise stopped, flinching at the statement and pursing her lips slightly but nodded in concession.

"Then let's presume they're dabbling in everything," Denise continued shortly. "Look at this - throughout Norcal, they've got plenty of stops. They go up I-5 to Red Bluff, and up 99-North to Chico. But everything bottlenecks here in Sacramento," Denise said, tracing her finger over the major highways. "Southbound from there, the roads split up again, but if they're running three different businesses up and down the same pipeline, they're gonna saturate those roads fast. Charming is right here," Denise pointed out, tapping her finger now in the center of the circle drawn onto the map. "They need a strategic location in Charming - multiple storefronts, hideouts - so they can stagger their cargo runs."

"And to refuel. Recupe," Juice nodded, reaching out to tap the long stretch of empty road on I-5 down south, clear until Los Angeles. "Because they're not gonna be able to put up some restaurant without anyone asking questions about it - not for miles. Best bet is Kettleman City, but that's at least five hours away, with the loads they'll be carrying."

"So Marks is gonna be looking to buy out Charming, build here and set up shop," Jax said, slapping his palm onto the dusty map. "Shit - Dee, you think your brother is followin' through on this?"

"I think my brother doesn't know shit about running a crime syndicate and is going to do whatever the fuck Marks tells him to," Denise replied. "If this is what Uncle was planning and Marks is still set on it, then I don't think he'll stand in its way."

"But they didn't get your money," Juice pointed out, looking at Denise almost as though he was hopeful this could be a solution. "So doesn't that -"

"All that does is buy time - keep 'em from buyin' things out all at once," Jax said darkly. "Marks has his own cashflow, they'll make it happen one way or another, with or without Denise's money."

"So they don't need me anymore?" Denise finally spoke up, her expression weak but at the same time, pleading for it to be true. The men glanced at one another before looking at her. Denise immediately knew the answer to the question. She took a couple of steps backwards, breathing somewhat heavier and raising a hand to cover her mouth. Juice was worried for a moment that she would break down right there, but instead, she let out a small, forced laugh. "I guess... it's a good idea I came back to Charming after all," she joked weakly. Sensing the delicate nature of her state, Juice stepped forward with the intention of comforting her, only to find her withdrawing, shaking her head.

"Can we - can we just take the map, grab what we need, and go?" she asked.

The entire drive back down to Charming, however, Juice felt wary of her suddenly more erratic driving down the highway - if he could have just left his bike or gotten to leave her car, he would have driven her home, but they'd loaded a few more boxes of contracts and maps into the trunk, so leaving it was hardly an option. It seemed like ages before they finally pulled back into the town of Charming, back to the house.

The Ortiz residence was a bit of a zoo at the time, but when the car and two bikes pulled up, Gemma Teller-Morrow appeared immediately in the doorway with Baby Sofia in her arms, and little Thomas toddling alongside her, his hand looped into the waistband of her jeans since she didn't have a free hand. Abel zipped along from behind her running down the walkway to great them.

"Grandma made everybody cookies!" Abel said brightly. "Except Deedee because she can't eat 'em yet. I think she saved some for you guys too!"

At first, Jax simply forced a smile for his son's sake - how was he meant to respond? There was a flash of bitterness at the idea that he was somehow supposed to be grateful, to show the woman on the steps any kind of warmth whatsoever. The next thought that crossed his mind, however, was the memory of Denise putting aside her anger towards him, long ago when they'd first met and telling Abel that he was a superhero. He remembered her words in particular, that no one deserved to have the image of a person they loved shattered.

"That's great, buddy," he managed to choke out, ruffling the boy's hair and hesitating before looking up at Gemma. "Thanks."

"Anytime, kid."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_First of all - no spoilers but, "Red Rose" messed me up emotionally, I'm not even gonna lie. But alas, I'm coping, and that's probably one of the reasons we have fanfiction._

_The next chapter is going to be one that has been a long time coming, and I'll let you guys make of that what you will. But, it's a chapter that I really enjoyed writing, and that I'm surprisingly enjoying rewriting as well because I'm able to add layers that I hadn't been able to include the first time around. So, I'm taking the rewriting process one day at a time and trying to gain a little momentum so I don't leave any of you hanging for too long._

_I also want to take some time out and plug my fellow fanfiction author, Callianassa - I'm going to be honest here and admit, I fangirled a little bit when I realized that she was reading my work, because her stories are amazing. If you haven't read them already, I highly encourage you to read them. (Especially her Tig/OC/Chibs series, "Family Ties", "It Was Always You", "Finally Found You", and now "Children of the Sun"). I promise, you will not be disappointed._

_Anyway, I'm working to rebuild the chapters I lost, and also to process that whammy of an episode. I'm not sure how I'm gonna cope with the series finale, but we're all in this one together, right guys? Until next time, cheers!_


	8. Chapter 8

Juice Ortiz never believed a situation would come around that made him consider change a good thing - to him, change had always meant that things were falling apart. It meant shit was going down the crapper. But when he realized in the days after the drive to Tiburon that Denise, quite frankly, was still very much unchanged in many ways left him incredibly uneasy. Just like old times, she was troubled, she was scared. Just like old times, she refused to talk about it. And just like old times, Juice didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do to try and fix it.

It was in these days that followed where Juice realized the one thing he didn't miss about Denise: the words, "I'm fine."

It was her response to absolutely everything, most especially in times when she was not fine at all. It always had been, and it was always a lie. Juice knew that she wasn't sleeping well, because he didn't hear her snoring over in the next room, since she'd been sleeping with Sofia in the nursery since she'd moved back in. He'd come back from TM at the end of the day, or back from chapel sometime in the evening, and he would swear that she looked like she'd been crying, but she was always "fine".

Two o'clock on a Friday morning, Juice wandered out into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water when he spotted her seated at the kitchen counter with her laptop, her hair tied up into a messy bun. There were dark circles under her eyes, but from her focused gaze on the screen, going to bed didn't seem to be in her immediate plans.

"I've got photos to edit, I'm way behind," she explained, anticipating the line of questioning that was going to come from Juice because it was the interrogation she always received. "Hey, could I borrow your eye for a sec? The lighting on this one seems -"

But before she could finish her sentence, Juice had walked over and pushed her laptop shut, raising his eyebrows somewhat defiantly. Denise's face puckered in annoyance now that Juice had, for the first time since she'd come back, actually challenged her on something. He'd just been so accomodating until now that she was starting to get used to it. But now - judging by the expression on his face, the ceasefire was coming to an end.

"Fine," Denise said shortly, throwing her hands up a little bit. But the word 'fine' - Juice let out a humorless laugh, despite his intentions to remain calm.

"Fine. Dee, do you know what that word means?" he asked with an almost snide smile. "Because -"

"Are you Princess Bride-ing me right now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow - when they had first found out she was pregnant, they had watched the movie every day at Denise's insistence, so she clearly knew the reference. _You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means._

Any other time, it would have been funny. Hilarious, even. There'd been a time when she'd never let his pop culture references go by without laughing at them, but right now, she could glean no humor from the fact that he was using them against her.

"You disappear for a year and you think I'm just gonna forget the shit you do?" Juice asked seriously, crossing his arms. "Because this is you. This is trademark you. You pull the 'I'm fine' out of your ass every time, even though you know I fuckin' see you. Everyone sees you. You don't eat, you don't sleep. It's the same every time!" he said, unconsciously taking a step closer to her. "Just like when..."

When he first left her, he was unable to say. When he'd left her in Charming and she'd come after him, when she'd been attacked by her own brother and left mutilated on the side of the interstate. She'd been a mess like this back then too. Her jaw clenched as she caught onto what he was saying, and she crossed her arms as well, looking away from him and shaking her head.

He'd called her bluff - he'd never done it, even before. Juice had always let Denise get away with saying or doing what she wanted, and that was, perhaps the biggest change in him since they'd last been together. He'd grown. He'd started to become a stronger person, and at any other time, Denise would have been happy to hear it. Right now, however, being confronted was the last thing she wanted. Her shoulders shrugged in defeat.

"I wanted Sofia to grow up away from all this. I wanted it to be over," she said honestly, shaking her head. "Even if it meant -"

"Being away from me?" Juice supplied. "Yeah. I get it," he nodded. But, instead of letting it go, he spoke up again after a brief pause, adding only two more words to the thought. "Kind of."

"Kind of?" Denise repeated, enraged and incredulous. "Hold on, what do you mean, kind of?"

Little did Denise realize, this, too was an intentional move on Juice's part because he did indeed know her better than anyone else, and he wanted so much to have her again - but the key to having her wasn't to make her happy. It was to make her honest. And with Denise, honesty came first with anger than with anything else.

"Okay," Juice said, the defiant expression returning to his face as he took a few stalking steps closer to the petite woman in front of him. "You wanna know what I kinda don't get? I kinda don't get why Jax got to be Uncle Jackie before I got to be Daddy - why was it okay for him to be in Sofia's life before I was? Because you know what, Dee? It fuckin' killed me, hearing people talkin' about how Jax just came back from seein' you somewhere, that he got to feel my daughter kick, to meet her, everythin' I should've been there for -"

"Jax never had an obligation to put us first - Jax never let me down like you did because he wasn't the one I was counting on," Denise hissed fiercely, only striving to keep her voice down for the sake of not waking Sofia in the nursery. "I was counting on you, Juice. I was counting on you to put me and the baby before Chibs, before the club, and you didn't - and then, when the shit hits the fan, who do you call? Me. You called me -"

"And I'm sorry!" Juice said, flinging his arms out. "I've been sorry, and you woulda fuckin' known that if you hadn't disappeared off the face of the fuckin' earth!"

"Like I'm the only one who's ever run away?"

"That has nothing to do with this!" Juice said, not realizing that by this point, he and Denise were barely inches away from one another, right in one another's faces. "If you're gonna fight me, at least fuckin' fight fair! Don't bring up every single time I've fucked up just to win -"

"You think I care about winning? You think that's what this is about? I don't want to fight you, Juice! Jesus..." Denise said, shaking her head and looking away. She let out a huff and took a step as if to leave until Juice caught her by the crook of the arm and didn't allow her to. Her eyes glinted angrily again, narrowing in his direction. At first, he'd thought himself capable of just egging her on, ticking her off for the sake of getting a little bit of honesty from her. But now?

"Don't walk away from me, Dee -"

"Don't tell me what to -"

"If you don't want to get along, and you don't want to fight, then what the fuck do you want?!"

"You -"

The word tumbled out of Denise's mouth in the heat of the moment before she was able to help it, and she leapt back as though she'd been burned, her eyes wide at her lack of control. Juice blinked in disbelief as well, clapping a hand over his mouth and wiping away at the corners of his lips.

He took a breath before stepping closer to Denise, who still looked as though she was caught in a state of shock. "Say it again," he said, his voice filled with an unfamiliar, gentle sort of authority that Denise was sure she'd never heard coming from him before. At first, Denise flinched and seemed as though she was considering the possibility of refusing. But then, the single word that came from her mouth, spoken now once she had the chance to reconsider, was likely the best, most beautiful sound Juice had heard in all of his life.

"_You_."

Neither would probably have been able to say who initiated, but in an instant, their lips had met almost violently, as though they'd long been resisting a magnetic force drawing them together until the pull was too much to bear. For the first time in a long time, Juice took in the citrusy scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her mouth, the urgency of her hands, gripping into his shoulders. He backed her gently a few paces and lifted her gently so she was sitting on the kitchen counter with her legs on either side of him.

It was only when he ran the palms of his hands cautiously over the fronts of her thighs and for the first time felt he prolonged sensation of her skin under his hands that he realized she was wearing those shorts - they were cotton shorts, and Denise had bought them one day from Wal-Mart for lack of anything comfortable to sleep in, but for whatever reason, Juice thought they were the hottest little number she owned.

He smirked a little against Denise's lips when he felt her gasp at his touch - but he was soon reminded that she gave as good as she got when she retaliated by raking her nails gently across the nape of his neck.

"Baby?" Juice said, pulling back only slightly and unable to stop his hands from roving over her waist as he spoke. "I love you..."

"Mm.."

"Say it back," he insisted, causing Denise to pull back slightly, her eyes hooded desirously but still managing to level him a questioning glance. "I want this - but not if it's just tonight. This doesn't happen if you can't say it back -"

Maybe it was the bravery that saying it took, maybe it was the challenge, maybe it was a singular moment of honesty and hope even though she knew that love wouldn't stop the shitstorm that was to come - but a small smile played at Denise's lips when she realized that right now, she didn't need to lie.

"I love you, Juice."

And that - the simple thing he'd been waiting over a year for, the single reward for all his time doing penance without his wife and daughter - was all he needed to hear.

* * *

><p>Juice had always been amused by how quickly Denise was able to fall asleep after making love - and today, more than amusement was a sense of appreciation. She had fallen asleep on the couch, and while she slept, he'd gone back to the nursery to pick up Baby Sofia.<p>

Now, sitting on the sofa holding both of his girl, his wife and his daughter, the center of his universe, he suddenly felt happy - no qualifiers. No 'except for', no 'but'. He planted a kiss on each of their heads.

This, he realized, was his family. Family. For so long, his only family had been the club, he wasn't sure that he would've known family when he had it - but he knew now. He knew now that as much as he loved SAMCRO, loved his brothers, this was a different feeling - he would give nearly anything for his brothers, sure. And indeed, there had been times when he'd put them first when he shouldn't have.

But, Juice realized, the difference was not so much about the people, but within himself. For Jax, for Chibs, for all of them, he gave and gave because he wanted to prove himself, he wanted to simply belong. Now, for Denise, for Sofia, however, he realized that he would give everything to them, do everything for them - because he just felt joy. Something inside him simply felt full and whole, seeing both of them here with him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there on the couch with both of them in his arms, but Juice knew of course that Denise had to wake up eventually, and when she did, the sun was just barely beginning to cast a pink-tinged light through the kitchen window. She let out a small groan, followed by a yawn as she rubbed her eyes.

"G'morning," Juice piped in, and it took Denie a moment in her drowsy state to register everything. She looked down at herself, realizing she was wearing Juice's t-shirt, her own cotton shorts, and nothing else. She smiled a little and leaned over, first kissing Sofia's forehead, then brushing her lips against Juice's.

"G'mornin'," she echoed before getting up and heading over to the kitchen to prep a morning bottle for Sofia.

Juice was quickly reminded how beautiful he found his wife - not just hot, pop a boner at an awkward time sort of of attractive, even though that had proven itself to be true for him as well if he was being completely honest. It was in moments like this, completely relaxed, completely at home and giving no signs of going anywhere, that she was the most gorgeous to him because in these moments, it was most clear that she was his - she was imperfect, she was scarred, but even with all of this, she wasn't just something' To Juice, she was everything.

"What are you starin' at, Mister Ortiz?" Denise asked, casting a questioning glance over her shoulder as she shook the baby bottle and tested the temperature on the soft skin on the side of her hand. Juice snapped out of his trance and chuckled, cocking his head to one side.

"Just enjoyin' the view, Missus Ortiz."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_As you may be able to tell, the past couple of chapters have been my way of coping with a tough past few episodes and the impending series finale. The next chapters are going to be somewhat light (or, at least, mostly non-violent) because I'm estimating at about chapter 11 or 12, things are going to swing in a different direction. I can't say exactly where it'll happen, just because as I'm rewriting chapters, the events are spacing out a little differently while I have the opportunity to make edits and all._

_Anyway, I am so, so, so grateful for all of your good feedback on the last chapter! Thank you all so much - I was worried that it was too much information to try and cram into a chapter, but hopefully the message got across that Marks and Charles are planning on a takeover (I envision them a little bit like Pinky and the Brain, except... you know, richer and more evil)._

_The next few chapters, which I'm working away at right now, will slowly ease back into the action and club business we either love or love to hate, so bask in these moments!_

_Also, I'm sure that I've plugged this before, but since I'm in the habit of giving fic recs to compensate for the fact that I lost chapters and can't always update, I want to point you all towards **Love Ink**'s work - especially if you want a Juice fix! She has an excellent, excellent OC and an epic storyline in her fic, "Hands All Over" and its companion/backstory piece, "It Won't Be Soon Before Long"._

_Anyway, I'm squeezing in a little extra time between work and family stuff so I can rebuild all of the material I lost, so I'll do my best to keep the updates rolling! Until the next update, cheers!_


	9. Chapter 9

"Daddy said that you could help me 'cuz you used to do all that Julius Caesar shit -"

"Abel."

Denise raised her eyebrows in surprise at Abel's colorful use of four-letter words while she and Gemma knelt on the ground next to him, pinning hems of his clothes into place for his costume in the school production of Peter and The Wolf for the holidays. Abel had just gotten the good news from his teacher that he was going to have the lead role, and Jax, knowing nothing about being in school plays, immediately enlisted the help of the single person he knew who was into that sort of thing.

"Sorry, Aunt Deedee," Abel said, though the broad grin on his face made it clear that more than anything, he was more amused than anything else by her response. Denise clucked her tongue disapprovingly, but gave a concealed little smile nonetheless. "Peter is the most important part!" he continued, gesturing with his arm and causing Gemma to drop one of the pins she was trying to place. "He gets to kill the wolf -"

"Woof!" Thomas spoke up, hobbling across the floor to watch what was going on. Denise put down the pins she was holding and went off to distract the younger boy, very thankful that Sofia was well entertained in her bouncer and wasn't wandering around the house.

"Well, of course you got the biggest part," Gemma said, her eyes full of warmth for her grandson. "My grandbaby's always number one."

Gemma didn't presume she would ever get to be with her grandsons every day the way she had been before - there was a point that even she knew when something was too much to ask. But every time the boys went out on a run and the boys were left with Denise, which they often were because Jax still sought ought every possible alternative to leaving the boys with Wendy, it went without saying that Denise would call Gemma in for backup, because Denise Ortiz harbored no illusions of being able to handle three of them on her own.

A few hours later, Sofia and Thomas were both down for a nap and Abel was settled in front of the TV while Gemma and Denise moved over into the kitchen to make dinner. Denise was in the process of chopping tomatoes when Gemma moved away from stove and the meat she was browning to make a lasagne.

"Hey, babydoll," she said, crossing her arms and gently reaching out, stopping Denise's hand from cutting the vegetables - it was her, I'm-gonna-talk-to-you face, and Denise recognized it well enough to know she ought to put the knife down and listen. "I just wanted to say thank you for this. For all this."

"For cutting the vegetables?"

"No - Christ, I forget how blonde you can be sometimes, sweetheart," Gemma smirked, shaking her head. "Thank you, Deedee. For sticking your neck out, for making sure I get time with the boys."

Denise cleared her throat and went slightly pink in the face - Gemma chuckled, knowing that this was just the way Denise was. She struggled with accepting gratitude or compliments and always became this awkward, stammering mess that fluctuated between infuriating and endearing. "Mama," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets and looking down at her feet. "Listen, I wouldn't have made it through the past year without you. You saved me and Fifi - I didn't know anything about being a mom, or having a kid," she said honestly.

Gemma was caught a little by surprise when Denise made the first move, reaching over and hugging her tightly. The girl, Gemma realized, truly cared about her - truly saw her like a mother, and wanted to see her get back the things she missed most. She'd brought the boys back into her life, she'd brought Nero back to her.

And Gemma knew - the innocent were usually the first to suffer when the shit hit the fan. From what she'd been hearing about Marks and the Triads, that time would be soon.

"If you and Juice have an out, you should take it," Gemma said suddenly, still hugging the smaller woman in front of her. Denise stiffened and pulled away slowly, her expression confused and almost childlike as though she were a little girl being turned away by her mother.

"I..." Denise started, clearing her throat and gently scratching the back of her neck. "I don't think that's gonna happen, Gemma. Whether I admit it or not, Charming's all I got now. It's the only place I have anybody," she said. Gemma had to strive to suppress a frown at the fact that she sounded so much like the way Juice used to sound - the way Juice had been before he'd met her. "It wasn't supposed to turn out like this, but it did."

"And..." Gemma began, her gaze leveling with Denise's, her expression hardening slightly. "You're sure you're okay with that? You sure you can handle it here?"

Hidden somewhere behind the motherly concern of the question was a hint of suspicion - and Denise understood well enough why it was there. Gemma didn't want Denise to hang on for this long, only to become another Tara in the end, to decide she couldn't handle it after all.

"I'm more than capable of taking care of my family. My whole family," Denise said, raising her eyebrows defiantly. "I plan on coming out the other side fully intact. Nobody left behind. Nobody stabbed in the back."

"Charles is your family."

"No." Denise's tone grew icy at the mention of her brother, and Gemma inhaled deeply at the fierce, hard expression on the young woman's face. There was an anger there, nothing like the anger she had shown when Juice was mentioned after she'd first run away from Charming. The anger in Denise that appeared at the mention of Charles was different. It was dark. It didn't stem from hurt, or from love. It stemmed from hate. "He's not my family - and he made the decision not to be," Denise said, the muscles in her neck tensing visibly. Gemma reached out and placed her hands on Denise's shoulders in an unspoken apology for bringing it up, then she placed a kiss on the girl's cheek.

"You stuck around for Jax even when Juice booked it to SAMBAY with Chibs," Gemma began. "I love you, kid. Like the daughter I never had. And I just wanna be sure that you always look after Jax. Like a brother."

Denise laughed skeptically shaking her head at the idea of being the one to protect Jax, to look after him as though he needed a twenty-six-year-old girl fighting any of his battles for him. But, Denise realized, Gemma was completely serious.

"You've been a good Mama to these idiots while I can't be," Gemma continued honestly, coming closer to Denise again. "You did exactly what an Ol' Lady should. Make 'em feel like they're strong, like they can take on anything."

"Nobody does the job like you, Ma," Denise laughed, shaking her head. "And besides - if anyone's close to bein' Queen, it's Wendy -"

"I know she's doin' good," Gemma interrupted shortly. "But that ex-junkie's got her own demons, and if I had to pick between her demons and yours to be around my boys, I pick yours in a heartbeat."

"Mm."

Denise made a small, noncommittal noise before looking down at the floor again, shuffling her feet. "Gemma?" Denise began quietly. The sudden shift in her mood signaled that something was amiss, that Denise was worried about something. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Depends on the favor."

"It could be nothing," Denise said, forcing a laugh and shaking her head. "But if something... if anything happens to me," she said, her face paling as she spoke. "I talked to Attorney Horkowitz and..."

"Sweetheart, you're not gonna die."

"Just hear me out," Denise said through slightly clenched teeth, and Gemma shut her mouth to allow Denise to continue, even if only because she could tell whatever Denise had to say was incredibly difficult for her. "I put the paperwork together without telling Juice so I need you to keep this quiet until it's really needed. Until I'm not here anymore. I'm leaving a third of the money to Jax for the boys - but I need you to make sure it goes to the boys and not the club. Okay?"

The weak expression on Denise's face made it clear to Gemma that she'd been holding onto the secret for a long time - and Gemma knew the importance of secrets. She knew the level of trust it took to confide in her, and there was a strange warmth to the thought that someone - even if it was just Denise - placed their trust in her again. There was a time that everyone did.

"You've got my word, sweetheart," Gemma said, leaning over and placing another kiss on Denise's cheek. "This is our secret. Thank you for lovin' my boys this much."

* * *

><p>Letting go of such a massive secret was exquisitely calming, but so very surreal as well. Denise was so distracted by this that when Jax and Juice both arrived back at the house, Denise hardly even realized that she had agreed to do Jax some kind of favor. She was so distracted that she was practically on autopilot until she was dressed and on the back of Jax's bike.<p>

It dawned on her finally to question why Jax needed her help - and why, for that matter, Juice hadn't been against it. Denise bristled slightly as it hit her that things were slowly sliding back into the way they were before, back to her being used for the club. But she was already along for this ride out of her own negligence and no one else's, so there were no choice for the time being except to go along with it.

Jax pulled his bike to a stop and allowed Denise to get off first, removing the helmet. Her hair had been pulled back and braided to one side, because she'd learned her lesson. Rides on the back of someone's bike made her sick enough - she didn't need to add bad hair to it.

"Where are we supposed to be going?" Denise asked, glancing around at the alley they had pulled into, her eyebrow irked. Denise was sure Jax knew she still kept the Beretta on her practically at all times, so if he was taking her out back to shoot her - the possibility of which, honestly, was only far and remote in Denise's mind - she didn't think her friend foolish enough to expect she wouldn't return fire.

'We're goin' to a restaurant."

"So the club business you needed me to help you with so badly is tryin' out a new restaurant?" Denise asked skeptically. "Where are we?"

"Manteca. Grand opening of a new bar and lounge," Jax said, lifting open the flap of his saddlebag. "Lin Kwan Pearl Lounge."

The name was enough to quell Denise's suspicions - Jax had brought her for credibility, for a reason to show up to what was likely to be some major shindig. While Uncle Henry played well in the art of subtlety when it was needed, Denise knew Charles did not share this gift.

"I'll turn around. You change into this," Jax said, holding something out to Denise which she recognized in the purplish twilight was a dress.

"You expect me to wear that shit? Nope," she said, raising her eyebrows. "No one said anything to me about a dress and those torture heels. If you wanted someone to strut around in that, you shoulda called Lyla -"

"Dee," Jax said, raising his eyebrows as he removed his kutte just long enough to remove his plaid flannel shirt and replace it with a cleaner button up shirt. "Do you wanna stick out like a sore fuckin' thumb in there?"

"No, I wanna go home where I can wear whatever the fuck I want, because my daughter's just gonna spit up on it anyway," she retorted, but she snatched the dress out of his hand nonetheless. She sneered in annoyance and gestured for Jax to turn away, and she quickly changed into the dress, which admittedly was probably a size too small, as it clung to her petite form rather tightly. Denise shoved her regular clothes back into the saddle bag and removed the shoes Jax had brought as well.

"Lyla loaned 'em to me, said the whole outfit'd fit you like a glove," Jax smirked, still not turning around out of respect for the fact that Denise was most likely making a very clumsy spectacle of herself, like Bambi learning to walk, except in heels.

"Tightest fuckin' glove I've ever worn, then," Denise grumbled under her breath, reaching up and undoing the braid in her hair so that it now cascaded over her back in waves. "Come on, let's check this place out before I break my ankle, Teller."

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am," Jax chuckled, smirking as Denise strode off past him, towards where the alleyway opened to reveal a roped off line and a brightly lit building. He frowned when he saw her pause, and he quickly realized that the Lin family symbol, the same one burned into her skin, was in large, bright lights. She sneered at it for a moment before her movements became erratic - Jax had to hurry to follow her to the front of the line.

"Miss, are you on the guest list?" One of the bouncers asked, garnering a sharp glare from the petite woman. She glanced him over - a muscular Chinese man with dark glasses, clad in a tight t-shirt. "Mr. Kwan's guest list-"

"How about you tell Charles that _Denise_ is waiting outside for him and is feeling a little talkative about the last few times we spoke?" she said, raising her eyebrows in defiance. The bouncer stared her over, and his eyebrows rose in realization upon hearing her name, just as Jax caught up and approached behind her. Denise shifted her weight so her hand rested on her hip. "Excuse me," she said, pushing past the bouncer as he now showed no further sign of resisting. Jax followed behind her.

They certainly didn't make places like this in Charming - and Jax though inwardly, their mission was to make sure it never did. But there were so many people, so many flashing lights, Jax almost thought the place would make him sick. The idea that Marks and the Triads wanted to build something like this in his town, the town he had lived in for his entire life, caused a wave of queasiness in and of itself.

"How are we gonna track him down?" Denise practically had to shout at Jax over the music. Jax, however, was immediately faced with another concern when he realized the many wolfish grins raining down on Denise from the men in the bar and on the dance floor. Denise shot from the hip. She wandered off. She did what she wanted. And Jax knew, if word got back to Juice of so much as an assgrab from one of the pieces of shit in this place, it would be a scene. It had been uncomfortable enough, asking to borrow the guy's wife to take her to a nightclub. He'd asked Lyla to loan the girl something to blend into the crowd - but, he realized, a porn star was probably not the right person to go to for blending in.

"There's no need to track me down,_ Meimei_."

Charles seemed to appear in their midst from out of the crowd like he had materialized from nothing, and Denise's head snapped in his direction, eyeing him with frigid caution. Jax, however, immediately began scanning the crowd for another face.

"August isn't here this evening," Charles said calmly. "Come, follow me."

Denise and Jax shared a glance before warily treading through Charles' wake he left in the bustling crowd, leading them upstairs to the wide open VIP area, where a handful of men in suits were already being entertained by scantily clad women.

"What do you think, Mei?" Charles said, gesturing proudly at his surroundings. "This is just the first of many, of course -"

"Of course. Daddy and Grandfather would be so proud," Denise interrupting in a cold, biting tone. "It's cute."

Charles frowned at his younger sister's lack of interest in his business, but forced a laugh, walking around and circling her like prey until Jax shifted, blocking his path. "Of course, you were never interested in this sort of thing. You can clean up as nicely as you want, but you're still - well. You know what you are," Charles replied. Denise, however, remained blank and expressionless. Was this truly her brother? Her own flesh and blood? The idea that she had once trusted him above all others seemed so foreign, so unthinkable.

"I came here with him," Denise said, nodding in Jax's direction, "because he has business with you, Charles. So if you'll excuse me."

Denise walked away, back down the stairs towards the bar until she was certain Charles' gaze was no longer following her, at which point she changed courses. Nothing built by Triad hands was ever what it seemed. There would always be something hidden below the surface, and while Jax took care of his business, Denise was going to try her damnedest to find it.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So, nothing world-shattering in this chapter, but this scene will continue into the next chapter, which you will be seeing soon. But - Denise's little secret with Gemma comes into play very soon, so I'll be accepting bets for how that comes back in a way. But I'll give you a clue - it doesn't bode well for quite a few people. I'm finally, slowly getting over the last episode, so while I still have a little emotional stability, I'm working on writing some of the heavy stuff to come._

_Short and sweet author's note for this chapter! Cheers!_


	10. Chapter 10

"It's not poisoned, Jackson," Charles said, sliding the glass of scotch across the glass table towards Jax, who eyed it warily. "The last thing I want to do is make a martyr out of you. Poison would be too obvious."

Jax sneered slightly as he looked across the table at Charles Kwan. From the way the man spoke, clad in his designer Italian suit, you almost would never be able to tell that he was simply a sidekick, a lapdog that August Marks was pulling along on a leash. Finally, Jax picked up the glass and took a swig, not taking his eyes away from Charles. When Jax took a drink and wasn't harmed, Charles smirked and extended his own glass, clinking it against Jax's and nodding slightly.

"I'm a man of honor," Charles said. "And a good host."

"Right," Jax laughed darkly, finally comfortably drinking out of the glass presented to him by Charles. "I know you're not. I don't think you want me to start givin' examples, Kwan."

Now, Charles wordlessly raised his own glass to take a drink, and Jax's lips curled further into a grin as he began feeling that he was gaining the upper hand in the conversation. He shifted his weight, leaning his elbows onto his knees.

"Since you were such a gracious host, Mr. Kwan," he said icily, "I'll give you fair warning. If you set foot in Charming and think that I'm going to let pieces of shit like you and Marks run my town, you'll both fuckin' burn. And if she wants the honor, I'll even let your own sister strike the match."

"Mei wouldn't kill me. I'm her family -"

"Her family is her husband and her daughter. She's a Mama," Jax said, a strange sense of pride now filling his expression. "And I know Mamas. She will put that man and that baby girl above you without battin' one pretty little lash on those China doll eyes of hers. She's one of ours now. She's one of us."

And Jax knew - Denise had killed blood for the club before. For Juice. He knew, even better than Charles did, that Denise's loyalties had fallen away from him and would no longer belong to him. The only blood that mattered to Denise was Sofia.

"You can't stop us," Charles said, his forced calm betrayed by the fact that his jaw was becoming tight and clenched. "August and I have big plans for your little town. You can't fight progress, Jackson."

"We'll see, Mr. Kwan," Jax said, shooting the man a somehow feral grin, his teeth bared and his lips tight as he reached out, mirroring Charles' earlier gesture; Jax reached over and clinked his empty glass against Charles' before slamming it down on the table. "We'll see. Tell your master that we still got business."

He then got to his feet and started back towards the staircase. It was only halfway down that he realized something.

He had lost track of Denise.

* * *

><p>"<em>Buhaoyisi<em>," Denise apologized, backing away from the inhabitants of the back room she had come across. "_Yaozoule._"*

Denise's tongue stammered clumsily over the Chinese words, holding her hands up defensively. She had been snooping around the bar and slipped past one of the ladies carrying bottles of champagne submerged in buckets of ice. She'd gotten all the way back to the kitchen when she'd made the call to slip through an unmarked door, only to find herself in a room that appeared to be where the scantily clad girls that filtered in and out of the VIP lounge to entertain the men came to get ready

"We understand English pretty good," one of the girls spoke up, though her words were heavily accented. Denise quickly realized they all stared at her with annoyance. "Are you new? Because if you think you can just come in and take our clients -"

"Oh, no, no," Denise said, shaking her head rapidly. "I don't work here. I just - I'm lost," she stammered weakly. Upon hearing that the thin, pretty girl who had just stumbled into their midst wasn't competition for customers, the girls seemed to take some comfort, and a few went back to applying their makeup. Denise let out a breath and glanced around.

"I'm... Xiao-mei," Denise said carefully, reflexively withholding her real name. The girls seemed to think nothing of it, not recognizing her at all based on their nonchalance. Instead, the girl who had spoken to Denise moments earlier crossed her arms over her bikini-top clad chest and walked over.

"I'm Wenya," the girl said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "If you don't work here and you don't want to, you should go before they catch you. A pretty girl like you could get in trouble in a place like this."

"Why are there so many of you?" Denise asked, glancing around at the crowded room of girls. It didn't seem like any of them were seeing any clients tonight, so it seemed excessive to cram the girls in like cattle. Wenya laughed, shaking her head.

"This is where girls come to wait for a spot."

"Wait for a spot?"

"At another 'restaurant'," Wenya supplied with a smirk, with the suggestion very clear to Denise indeed. "When a new one opens, they pick out girls from here. The best girls get picked first so - you can see why we didn't want a hot piece of ass like you takin' a spot," she smirked. "You've got that fresh, virginal thing."

"I have a daughter."

"Well, lucky you," Wenya snickered. "But - you get on out. If Charlie sees you, he'll turn you out whether you wanna work here or not."

The idea of being turned out by her brother made Denise's stomach churn, so she nodded shortly before turning to leave. She hurried out the direction she came, back towards the kitchen. Before she could reach the door back onto the main floor of the club, however, she felt an arm curl around her thin forearm and yank her backwards, turning her to face him.

"You."

Denise's breath hitched in her throat in vague recognition - he had been one of the men with Charles that night on the highway, the ones who had held her down while Charles took the soldering iron to her. She attempted to pull her arm away, but his eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. And then, she realized the lustful expression glinting behind his eyes as he looked her up and down.

The old, unbridled anger that Denise had once sworn by bubbled to the surface - the anger that she'd lived by before meeting Juice, before all of this. She felt her blood immediately run hot. Her fist clenched at her side, and she moved quickly, without thinking, not even realizing what she had done until after the heel of her other hand collided with the taller man's ear. He let out a roar and clutched the side of his head in pain, and Denise's lip curled in disgust. He had only been tough when she was tied up, when she couldn't fight back. She was unappeased and was starting the motions of striking again until she felt another hand close around her other arm, pulling her away and through the door, into the dark, loud club floor.

She stumbled and turned to face this second figure, but in the dark lighting, it wasn't until she was standing inches away that she realized that it was Jax.

"Where the fuck d'you run off to?"

"What?"

Denise struggled to hear him, so she had to lean closer in order to understand his question. As she did, a bright flash of light caught the corner of her eye and caused her to flinch, but she shook her head to clear the bright white glare that it left behind in her vision.

"There's a holding area for the girls, they keep them in the back," Denise said, assured that no one could make heads or tails of their conversation over the loud music. "Said that they're just waiting for a spot in a new location, said new restaurants should be popping up soon."

Jax's jaw clenched, and his grip on Denise's arm tightened instinctively as it dawned on him - this included their locations in Charming. They were planning on building in Charming, and moving in on the gap left while Diosa recovered from the massacre at the hands of the Triads. Nero was still struggling finding enough girls to handle Diosa's clients, now that they knew what had happened to Colette and the others. August Marks and Charles Kwan wanted their hands in everything.

"Jax," Denise piped in, talking loudly over the music. "There's nothin' else for us to do here."

He nodded curtly, releasing her arm and scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah. Let's bail."

* * *

><p>Juice didn't ask any questions when Denise came back home past midnight in a dress that was barely a dress at all - the skirt was hardly longer than an Ace bandage, but he didn't make any comments when she came off of Jax's bike dressed that way. He let her hop in the shower and they got into bed to sleep, all in the same room, peace and quiet.<p>

But he got up the next morning and went outside for a run - he'd taken it up to replace smoking, since he'd quit cold turkey the when Sofia had started coming to the house - then returned to the front porch to see the local paper that must have just been dropped off by the paper boy. He took it inside and thumbed through it over coffee when he came across a small story with a photo of two familiar faces and a questionable headline indeed. On instinct, he stormed back to the bedroom where Denise was just waking up and getting dressed.

"What the hell were you and Jax doing at your brother's restaurant last night?"

"Investigating!"

"Investigating what?" Juice snapped, unfolding the newspaper with a snap and holding it out to Denise to display the story in question. It was small, even for a story in a smalltown paper, and nudged into the corner of the lifestyle section, but nonetheless, the headline was incriminating in and of itself.

_Bay Area Trust Fund Baby With Biker Beau?_

Underneath the headline was a photo of Jax and Denise, their faces close to one another, with Jax gripping Denise's arm and pulling her closer - Denise's lips pursed in annoyance when she realized that someone had snapped a photo of them inside of the club. That was what the bright light had been when they'd been talking. Charles had planned it this way, to set them up - to stir the pot.

"Yeah, okay," she said stiffly. "That looks pretty bad."

"Pretty bad?" Juice said, throwing the newspaper onto the unoccupied bed. Denise shot him a piercing look, warning him not to raise his voice any higher because Sofia was still in her crib in the room. Juice's jaw clenched, and he forced himself to take a breath, his nostrils flaring. "You're not the one in the club. I am. You shouldn't be runnin' around in these little pornstar dresses playing Carmen San Diego. You should be here, at home, with Sofia - with everythin' your brother's got planned, you should be on lockdown with someone watching you every second of the -"

Juice paused when he saw the expression on Denise's face, her eyebrows raised as though she dared him to repeat what she just said. Denise, everyone knew, was fiercely independent, and based practically her entire identity on that fact. The insinuation that she needed to be protected, to be put on lockdown, was enough to set her off, and Juice knew it. She stared at him in fury for a few moments before taking a few steps. Juice realized that she was heading for the door, however, and stopped her in her tracks.

"Don't turn this back on me, Dee," he said, but she refused to look at him. "Denise. Just - dammit, just listen for once, a'right? I don't wanna lose you and Fifi. You and Sofia are my life. You and I both know that Jax is never gonna take down Marks. This shit is gonna blow up in his face, and - and -"

Juice paused, groaning and clasping his fingers behind his neck as he looked upward. "Jax... is my brother. I love 'im," Juice said, finally managing to look Denise in the eye. "But this might take him down, going up against Marks like this. I know that. Everyone knows that. And if it does, if I have to lose a brother, I sure as hell don't wanna lose you too. So..."

Juice felt encouraged by the fact that Denise's gaze softened in understanding, and he reached out to place his hands on her shoulders, leaning his forehead against hers. "Just... step back from this, okay?" he asked. "Please? You and me, we step back as much as we can. Okay?"

Denise paused, inhaling and biting her lip in hesitation. One on hand, the fight with Marks was so very personal for her, she couldn't imagine doing what Juice asked. She wanted revenge too, just as much as Jax did, though for different reasons. But on the other hand, Juice was right. They had to protect their family, the family they had waited so long to put together. And they wanted to get out of this eventually - to find peace. And in the end, Denise knew - she wanted to honor her father and grandfather. She wanted to avenge them and the dishonor Charles was bringing to their name. But at the end of the day, cherishing the living came before honoring the dead.

"Baby, please," Juice insisted. "I'm trying to man up. I'm tryin' to take care of you, of our family, but you gotta let me, Dee."

The request hit Denise like an arrow to the heart - because she knew it was true. She knew that Juice wanted more than anything to feel like he was taking care of them, like he was doing something good. Like he had a purpose. As much as she felt squeamish at the thought of giving up control, of stepping back, she knew that she owed him this chance.

"Okay," she said almost inaudibly. Juice's shoulders sagged in relief, and he rushed forward, collecting his wife in his arms and holding her tightly. Only then did Denise feel truly convinced that she had made the right choice.

"I won't let anything happen to you, baby," he muttered into her hair. "Nothing's gonna hurt you. Nothing, nobody."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_*Translation- "I'm sorry. I have to go." (Had to leave off some of the accents, as they weren't coming in correctly when uploaded)_

_So, a lot of little details crammed into one chapter, just setting the stage for what's to come! I'm hoping to update at least one more time, maybe twice before Tuesday, but I don't think I will post on the day of the series finale because I'm at a week-long seminar for work, and also have a fancy schmancy dinner to attend, right before coming home to watch!_

_I might add some happier moments into the chapters to come, because we're going to need it, and I have a very, very heavy chapter coming up soon. I don't want to stack that on top of the series finale, I don't think my poor little heart could handle it!_

_Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Until next time, cheers!_


	11. Chapter 11

The fact that Denise seemed to be keeping to her word of stepping back from club matters gave Juice a couple of, admittedly, the happiest weeks in his life. He'd approached Jax the next day and said his peace, said that Denise was an ol' lady and should be protected like one not treated like an associate. The club had a policy, a tradition of how women were approached.

Jax, to his credit, had been surprisingly accepting of Juice's opinion and had kept a respectful distance from Denise when it came to club business. Things had seem to come to a calm lull, and Denise's only concerns had been Sofia, and the occasional photoshoot, which were enough time out of the house to keep her from getting cabin fever. The fact that Denise was keeping busy with other things in turn took up the time she usually spent watching Jax's boys, which gave Wendy an in to spend time with them as well.

Juice was pleased beyond measure at the fact that things had seemed to reach a point of stasis, and he had become comfortable with the new turn that things were taking. He spent most of the day at TM - like old times - and nights when there were no runs at home with his wife and daughter. Maybe, he began to believe, it really was possible to have it all.

The fragile peace was shattered, however, when one morning, Nero burst onto the lot of TM, followed by Gemma, who was holding baby Sofia in her arms. Juice bristled at the sight and immediately hurried over, not even thinking of his greasy coveralls, scooping his daughter out of Gemma's hands. Jax hurried over as well.

"Where's Dee? How come Sofia's with you two?" he asked, standing just barely a few paces behind Juice.

"Gemma - she was at my place," Nero began, slightly hesitant as Jax sneered slightly at this first piece of information. "_Chinita_ came in ranting and raving about CPS coming by the house, asking all kinds of questions."

"CPS?" Juice interrupted, his arms tightening around his daughter. "What the f-"

"Juice."

Juice inhaled sharply through his nostrils upon being chided by Gemma, but he knew that Denise went to almost obsessive lengths to keep that kind of language away from their daughter until she was older, which was admittedly a daring mission when the baby's father was in a club like SAMCRO. "What'd they want?" he said through gritted teeth. "Why'd you leave Dee alone back at your place?"

"We didn't," Gemma continued, crossing her arms over her chest. "She said CPS came by because someone reported you two, saying you were raising baby Fifi in an unsafe environment and that the baby might be better off with other relatives -"

"Charles."

"That's what Dee thought too," Nero said. "They talked to her for a while, found out that shit was unfounded and that Fifi's got a good family, a good home - said sorry and got out. But Dee was shook. Left the baby with us and just ran off, we don't know where she -"

Juice's expression grew into shock as he looked between Nero, Gemma, and Jax, before his gaze settled on his daughter. Jax's jaw clenched as well. Now, it was obvious where she'd gone.

"I'll give Wendy a heads up, tell her to come here and pick up Sofia - you go after your wife," Jax nodded, extending his arms to take the baby. As much as Juice disliked the idea of leaving his baby here under these circumstances, certain things had to take precedence.

They had been so close. They had nearly gotten themselves settled into a life where Denise stayed back, where she kept herself safe. Now? Now they were back to this. As much as Juice had attempted to be an advocate for moving on, for forgetting, even if forgiveness was impossible, he now felt himself embittered with absolute hatred for Charles Kwan.

"The boys and I'll start without you," Jax continued as Juice continued to seethe with anger. "Once Wendy gets here to watch the baby, we'll start plannin' how we strike back at the Triads for this one.

There was an unexpected sense of comfort in the fact that Juice could count on his brothers to make things right - to make sure that this senseless hostility was answered for. That was taken care of. Now, all he needed to do was find his wife before anything happened, anything he had sworn to prevent. As he ran off to change out of his coveralls and leave, however, Jax's hard, suspicious gaze then turned on his mother.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Jax asked, his voice low and guttural as he maintained an even expression for the sake of the baby in his arms. "Nero got Fifi shoved into his arms. What's your excuse?"

Gemma's expression stiffened, and she tilted her chin up proudly - almost defiantly. Jax's eyes narrowed, and he took a step back, shaking his head in apparent disgust. "For someone who only had a roof over her head for a year because of Deedee, you're pretty calm now that she might be in danger."

"She's a big girl."

"Right," Jax said, his upper lip curling slightly into a sneer. "'Course that's it. You almost had me thinkin' you wanted somethin' to happen to her."

* * *

><p>Charles Kwan didn't see anything wrong with the fact that he had taken up residence in his Uncle's nicest home - it was a shame for it to go to waste. He enjoyed the fireplace, the hardwood flooring, the vaulted ceilings. He loved the view from the Oakland hills. Even if he was completely alone, save for the revolving door of underling Triads who came through, it was well worth it. He was coming up in the world. Success was lonely. That was simply the way of things.<p>

He was sitting alone, drinking a glass of scotch in one of the deep, winged armchairs situated in the living room when he heard a crash from the other side of the house. He reached into the drawer of the side table for his handgun and got to his feet, but before reaching the archway that led to the dining room, he was met by Denise, holding a wooden two-by-four in one hand that she must have used to bash the back window in. With her other hand, she pulled her own gun from a holster at her waist.

For a moment, the siblings simply stood in silence, neither raising their weapons at the other. Charles' expression was full of fear, while Denise's was full of anger - her chest heaved furiously.

"Mei-"

"Don't," she said darkly, her forehead wrinkled in hardly restrained rage. "You're no brother of mine. I know it was you."

"You had to be taught -"

But before Charles could begin any grandiose speeches towards his sister, the likes of which she had usually sat through and listened to, she swung out furiously, using the two-by-four and sending an antique lamp on the side table crashing in pieces, with shards of the blue and white porcelain flying, forcing Charles to raise his hands to shield his face, clumsily dropping his gun in the process so it skittered across the floor, sliding to a spot where Denise stopped it with her foot before kicking it across the room.

"What you did to me is one thing," Denise sneered, stalking closer to Charles now that he was completely defenseless - he threw his arms up and took a few steps backward. Denise felt a stirring inside of her, knowing that she could do anything to him, and he could do absolutely nothing. "But what you did - it could have cost me my daughter. And if you do anything that could take my daughter away from me, no one can protect you from me. Not Marks. Not the Triads. Not anyone."

She could show him, right now, just what it felt like to be completely powerless. Denise made the next few moments unknowingly, hardly realizing she was moving at all until she was standing dangerously close to her brother, the wooden two-by-four fallen to the floor, the barrel of the gun in his face.

"You won't do this, Mei. After everything we've been through -"

"After everything you've put me through, you mean?" Denise snarled, her eyes glinting with an unfamiliar sort of uncontrollable fury. "You think I can't? I killed Uncle Henry, Charles. I shot him. Just like this -"

Charles raised his hands and braced himself, shielding his face in an act of immobilized cowardice, only to find that the sound of a shot did not come. Instead, there was the sound of a struggle. He lowered his arms to see him - Juice Ortiz, the man with the head tattoos - wrestling the gun out of Denise's hands.

"Give it back, Juice!" she said, struggling to get the Beretta out of Juice hands, but the edge in her voice had disappeared as she was seemingly snapped out of her trance. "I'm not done -"

"Yes. You are," he snarled, sounding uncharacteristically rough. Charles had never heard the man speak to his sister that way. "We're going home -"

"He tried to get them to take our daughter -"

"And he failed. And he's always going to fail - as long as you don't do stupid shit like this."

"Mei-"

"You shut the fuck up, Kwan," Juice said, sneering angrily. "This isn't for you. I'm doing this for my wife because you're not worth it. She's too good for this. We're leaving."

Juice yanked Denise by the arm away, back towards the back door that she had left open. But, almost as an afterthought, Juice turned and fired two shots expertly into each of Charles' legs, sending him collapsing to the floor and howling in pain.

He'd had no choice except to let Denise drive home in the car she had brought, since neither of them could take the risk of leaving their modes of transportation nearby in case Charles needed to call an ambulance, but he'd managed to talk her down quickly, directing her to pick up Sofia from Wendy's house and go home.

It would be until hours later after chapel that Juice would manage to get home to find Denise holding Sofia on the couch, her eyes red and swollen. He sat down next to her wordlessly, leaning his elbows onto his knees and turning his head to look at her.

Juice was pretty sure it was for the best that he hadn't come home to talk to her right away - at first, he hadn't known whether to be furious or worried sick. But after sitting at the table with his brothers, he'd come to a realization when he saw that they seemed to be just as furious tht Charles Kwan had threatened Denise, because Denise was one of them now. She was an ol' lady, she had a child with one of their brothers, and Charles Kwan had taken action against her. Charles was the one who'd committed the unforgivable sin. Denise had simply done what a mother was supposed to do.

"I'm sorry," Denise said weakly, her eyes focused on Sofia, who was drowsily babbling and resting in Denise's arms. "I - I know I said I'd step back. I've been trying -"

"I know, baby," Juice said, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "I know you have."

"It's just - when it comes to Sofia," Denise said, her voice distant and weak in her throat, "I don't think I can stop myself. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't gotten there when you did."

"But I got there. I will always get there, baby," Juice said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close so that he could feel both Denise and Sofia's warmth against him. "You're my -"

"Your ol' lady."

"My wife," Juice corrected. "You're my wife, and I swear to God, I'm going to protect you. I don't want you to have something like that on your hands. I know what the does to you, and you and me, we're not made for this. We're not right for this."

Denise sniffled, and Juice felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had made her cry. As much as he wanted to feel needed, to feel like she needed him to be the strong one, seeing her this fragile was so foreign, he hardly knew how to take it in. He held her tighter, and took a breath. He had nearly forgotten that there was something he needed to tell her.

"The club decided - they're gonna take care of makin' the next move against the Triads," Juice said. "Jax is gonna take care of it."

Denise made a small noise along with a nod, but still couldn't be distracted from looking at their daughter. She couldn't believe that in the span of a single day, she'd been the most terrified, and then the most infuriated than she had perhaps ever been in her life. No matter what they did to make things right, to get revenge, nothing would ever erase the memory of those feelings.

"Baby?"

Denise finally forced herself to look up, sensing the hesitation in her husband's voice, and her brow furrowed in concern.

"We're goin' on a run tonight. With the Mayans - tryin' to keep 'em locked in as allies if we're goin' to war with Marks and... and your brother," Juice explained. "Jax wanted to leave the boys with you if you were up to it, but - there's always Wendy, or Lyla -"

"No, no, I'm okay," Denise said, shaking her head and putting on a forced, tired smile. "It'll be good for me, distracting myself. Maybe if the boys are around, I could get back to feeling normal. Tell Jax to bring 'em by."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So, Denise came really close to doing something she'd regret this chapter, and Juice had to pull her back from the edge - which was actually a nice dynamic to write, having Juice be the stable one. Anyway, the next chapter might be a little delayed, just because of the finale. Chapter 12 is going to be a little bit of a tough one too, so I don't want to stack it on top of the series finale._

_Plus, I'm going to be at a training for work all week, so I might not have quite as much time as usual._

_Anyway, in light of the fact that this is the last update before The Final Ride is over, I wanted to again say a special 'thank you' to all of my readers and reviewers. This season has been a crazy one for me to watch, and a really stressful one at times as well. So, writing this story has linked me to all of you and given me my own little support system. I love you guys, and I hope the end of the show doesn't mean the end of anything else. I'll still be here, and I hope you all will too!_

_In any case, all reviews are appreciated, and feel free to message and vent about the show, or to shoot me any ideas as well! I'm still in the process of rewriting chapters that I lost, so I'm still actively writing! Until next time, cheers!_


	12. Chapter 12

"We got a run tonight, so I'm gonna make this quick."

The words had all come from Jax so quickly that Gemma could genuinely say that she was blindsided by them. It had just been hours earlier that he'd insinuated to her that she wanted something to happen to Denise - just that idea had been a slap in the face. Gemma Teller-Morrow, if nothing else, wanted the world for her children, and Denise had practically become one of them.

But now, he was looking straight at her, and his intentions were very clear as far as what he wanted to happen. It had made sense at first - the club was going to seek out its own justice against the Triads for what Charles had done to Juice's family, because that was the way the club dealt with things. They protected their own, and despite the rockiest of paths to get to this place, this included Juice. Things slowly began to fall out of Gemma's understanding, however, when Jax's hurried explanation of the plan drew closer to the part he envisioned Gemma playing in it.

They couldn't go in guns a-blazing to seek revenge against the Triads, because Marks was involved, and they were not yet prepared for an all-out war with him. They needed to play smart, and playing smart deception. It meant needing a bargaining chip. A Trojan horse. That was the role that Jax intended for Gemma.

Jax wanted to hand her over to Marks. A gesture of good will, Jax had told her with practically no emotion on his face at all. Gemma couldn't help but ask why, and Jax's response was simple.

"Because they know how much my family means to me," Jax said sternly. "If I hand them my own mother as collateral, they'll expect me to behave. They won't see the blowback comin'."

Gemma Teller-Morrow knew that her son's forgiveness would be difficult to come by, but she had never expected him to want to use her this way, knowing that if she was found out, she could very well be killed. More than that, it was very likely she'd be killed - if the pretenses of her arrival proved false, if she came into the midst of Marks and Triads under the guise that she was a peace offering, a sign that Jax meant them no ill will, all of those things would prove to be lies. And she would pay for it. Gemma knew the way these men thought. She would pay for it.

She knew she was terrible for believing it, but she truly did think that with everything she had done, everything she had given and suffered for the club, for Charming, for Jax - she was above having to prove herself, having to pay the price, having to get right. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

It was perhaps not even entirely out of strategy. Gemma knew she deserved to suffer, and perhaps sending her as a sacrifice to the enemy was simply something Jax had to do to feel as though he had avenged something. Gemma understood that. She understood getting right with her family. She understood the need for revenge. But it didn't mean that it came as any less of a shock when Jax had arrived at Nero's door looking for her. She felt a familiar sense of panic, of desperation - if she could find another way to win back her position in her boys' lives, if there was something else she could do.

Denise could help her. If Gemma could produce even part of Denise's inheritance, it would be worth more than any secrets she managed to dig up with Marks and the Triads - and the Triads would tell her nothing, knowing that she was the one who framed them in the first place. It was a setup for failure. But Denise...Beneath that, too, was a level of resentment. Gemma hadn't treated Denise like her own daughter just to have Denise replace her, to be important to the boys and to the club. That wasn't the plan. She was never meant to take Gemma's place. It wasn't the proper balance of things.

Gemma found her way back to the old motel room and mulled her predicament over with a glass of whiskey. A bottle of whiskey. And with the alcohol-induced haze, the solution seemed clearer. There was no denying, Denise Ortiz loved Jax like a brother, loved the club, loved Charming in her own way. She would have done everything for them. Anything for them. Gemma knew that if something needed to happen to keep them safe, Denise would understand. But there were limits to her devotion. Denise would never give up the money - she was a woman of too much principle. She would never sign over the money knowing that it was going to be used by the club. But Juice...

Juice could be broken. Juice could always be broken.

The only thing that was needed to exploit Juice as the weak link in the chain locking up in the Lin money, Gemma decided as she stumbled out to her car, was to get rid of the one thing that made him strong - then the money would be no issue. She drove drunkenly down the road to the Ortiz house. The guys would still be out with the Mayans, there was just enough time.

"I'm so sorry I gotta do this, babydoll. I love you. I love Sofia," Gemma said tearfully to herself as she swerved and skidded over the dark, empty roads. "But it has to happen, baby. It has to..."

Gemma pulled up in front of the house and clenched a plastic bag in her hand, fishing around clumsily for the roll of tape underneath the seat. She loved Denise - Denise didn't deserve to go out messy, and Gemma didn't want to make that mistake again. Denise was like her own daughter and this time, Gemma would let it happen with a little dignity. No mess.

She stumbled up the front steps as quietly as possible and placed her hand on the doorknob - this was Charming. People kept their doors unlocked, and Denise had become no exception. She opened the door and sent it swinging gently inwards until she spotted Denise on the couch, having dozed off while Sofia slept in the crib.

"I'm sorry, baby. I love you, I really do," Gemma muttered, her face blank but still streaked with tears. "Forgive me..."

Despite her drunken state, she moved quickly, throwing the bag over Denise's head and winding tape around her neck. The petite woman woke quickly and struggled, but Gemma pinned her arms and legs down to the couch as she attempted to flail her limbs and get free.

Gemma muttered apologies over and over again as she heard Denise choking, gasping for air. The outline of Denise's face appeared against the thin plastic as she sucked in what air she could, thrashing wildly into the couch against Gemma's hold, her movements growing weaker and weaker. There was a small commotion as Denise desperately attempted to gnaw through the plastic for air, and Gemma quickly struck her across the face. Even this was not enough to wake Sofia, who had never been a fussy baby - Gemma failed to notice, however, the sounds coming from the guest bedroom. Instead, she continued holding Denise down as she slowly lost her ability to fight back.

"It doesn't have to hurt, sweetheart - please..."

Sensing that Denise had no more fight left in her and was not long for this world, Gemma looked over at Sofia in the crib, picking up a nearby throw pillow with trembling hands and walking over towards the baby. "I'm sorry, baby..." she muttered, though no more tears came. "I'm so -"

"There's a bad guy in my Aunt Deedee's house - I need police..."

Gemma froze when the sound of a door opening that signalled Abel's arrival - Jax had left the boys with Denise while the club was out on a run. Gemma dropped the pillow onto the ground in panic, and Abel's eyes grew wide at what he saw in the living room - he had already gone to bed in the main bedroom with Tommy, but had heard the noise from outside the door. Gemma saw in his hand that he had already held a phone, which he dropped onto the ground when he saw what awaited him in the living room. He'd called the police - he'd alerted them to the presence of a burglar, and instead they'd find this.

"Aunt Deedee!" he screamed in terror, bolting across the room and climbing onto the couch next to her, reaching over and ripping the plastic bag open with both hands. Gemma thought she saw Denise manage to take a small breath, but she was pale - almost blue. There was no time for her make any other observations, however, before Abel ran over and began pounding on her legs with his small fists. "Why did you hurt her?" he said, his face red and twisted in anger. "Why did you hurt her, Grandma?"

Seeing Abel, knowing that Abel had seen what she'd done and was old enough and smart enough to understand, knocked a sudden sense of sobriety into Gemma as she surveyed the scene and gently pushed Abel away, kneeling on the couch next to Denise, looking to see if she was breathing.

"Babydoll, no..." she said, shaking her head in disbelief, feeling the weight of what she had just done finally setting in on her. "I didn't mean it. Deedee, sweetheart..." She leaned over and held Denise's face, holding her cheeks and leaning over to try and revive her, to force air into her lungs. Denise's chest seemed to move slightly with weak, almost nonexistent breaths, and Gemma leaned in to try again until Abel let out a cry and yanked her away by the arm.

"Don't go near her! Don't touch my Aunt Deedee!" Abel cried. "I'm gonna protect her -"

"I'm so sorry, baby," Gemma said, kneeling in front of her grandson. "It was an accident. Baby, I'm so -"

The sound of sirens in the distance caused her to freeze, and the next few minutes seemed to happen in a blur. She realized quickly that it was too late to run - and she could not leave Abel in this scene, no matter how much she wanted to spare herself. The police were coming, and now, there was no one to cover for her. There was nowhere to hide.

"She killed her," Abel sobbed to the police officer as the paramedics ran into the house straight to Denise, almost treating Gemma as though she wasn't there. The police officers, however, looked straight at Gemma and only at Gemma as Abel pointed at her tearfully. "She killed my Aunt Deedee."

"Gemma Teller-Morrow," one of the officers said, straightening up and leveling with the older woman, who bore an expression of numb resignation. His name escaped her, but she knew she had seen him grow up in this town too, like so many others. "You have the right to remain silent..."

* * *

><p>Jax and Juice had both gotten phone calls at about the same time and had pulled out of formation - Jax, from the police, and Juice, from the hospital, both with different information regarding the same news. Bringing the operation to a grinding halt, there had been some kind of unspoken understanding when Juice and Jax met eyes that they knew what had happened to some extent, and upon hearing the unclear details, Alvarez extended a gesture of good faith by saying he didn't need SAMCRO pulling security for their run. The entire club was in the waiting area of the hospital emergency room within minutes, divided between Juice and Jax, who looked equally disturbed by the news.<p>

"You can't go in there, boy," Chibs said, yanking Juice back as he practically bumrushed the door to the emergency room floor. "They're doin' what they can -"

"Chibbie, you don't get it, I promised her," Juice said, wheeling around and facing his old friend and mentor, his brother, with a nearly crazed expression overtaking his features. "I promised her I'd always fuckin' get there - I promised nobody was gonna hurt her. Right before we _fuckin_' left, brother."

He'd fucked up already. He'd only just tried to handle his own shit, to step up and protect his family, and for all he knew, he might have already lost them. Juice felt as though he was sinking, drowning. He balled his hand into a fist and beat his chest, sure that his heart was breaking right now. Not Denise, thought. Not Sofia.

Hearing the club's arrival in the lobby, Abel burst out of the hospital social worker's office, running to his father and hugging the man's knees tightly with gasping, choking sobs shaking his body. The social worker carried a sleeping Thomas out as well, putting him down to rest on a chair in the waiting area next to where Jax was standing.

"Daddy," he sobbed. "Daddy, why did grandma do it? Why did she -"

"Your grandma did this?"

Juice's expression went from worry and fear to absolute fury, his forehead wrinkled and his nostrils flaring as the sudden revelation sent his heart practically shooting out the top of his head. Gemma did this. Seeing the way Abel flinched in fear at Juice's interruption, Chibs clasped a hand on the crook of Juice's arm, pulling him outside for air.

"Aunt Deedee's a superhero like you, right?" Abel said tearfully, hugging Jax tightly when he crouched down to his son's height. Abel sobbed into his father's shoulder. "She's gonna be okay? When will she wake up?"

"I don't know, buddy," he said, feeling his heart sinking as it dawned on him what had happened as well. "I don't know."

Juice, meanwhile, could not be calmed or comforted - he paced back and forth outside like a caged beast as Chibs watched, unable to help.

"This is what I get, isn't it?" Juice said, shaking his head and pressing the heels of his hands over his eye sockets, letting out an agonized moan through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna lose her, Chibs - because I kept Gemma's secret. I let her get away with killing Jax's wife, and now she's killed -"

"She's still alive, boy," Chibs said fiercely, taking him by the shoulders and practically shaking him in hopes of knocking some sense back into him. "Get your shit together - if they brought her back here and she's still in, she could still be -"

"I just got my wife and my baby girl back - I don't even know where Sofia is," Juice said, finally breaking into sobs into Chibs' shoulder, leaning on the older man for support. "I just got them back, Chibs. I just -"

"Uncle Juicy?"

Juice looked up through his swollen, tearful eyes to see that Abel had wandered outside to him, walking over and taking slow steps towards him. "I'm sorry..."

"What?" Juice asked, feeling his shoulders sag in defeat. He hadn't meant to scare the kid - but how could he do anything else when he was scared shitless himself? "No, buddy, come on -"

"I'm sorry," Abel repeated, his face now no longer angry or panicked, but instead, blank and confused. "I tried to save her - I stopped Grandma before she hurt Fifi. I wanted to protect 'em like I protect Tommy but I did bad," Abel said flatly. Juice concealed the stabbing sense of rage that reawakened in him at the revelation that Gemma had tried to hurt Sofia as well. "I did bad -"

"No. No, c'mere, buddy," Juice said, walking over to the boy and kneeling in front of him - he couldn't help but embrace him, knowing that he had tried so hard, that he felt so guilty. Denise had always tried to shield the Teller boys like they were her own. Juice owed her that much not to ruin it. "You did real good, alright? Real good. Thank you."

"Juice."

He looked up suddenly and saw Jax standing in the doorway holding a baby - Sofia. Juice ran over and took his daughter from Jax's arms gently and held her close. She was thankfully still sleeping - a heavy sleeper like her mom, and for once, Juice was thankful for it.

"They checked her out to be safe," Jax explained. "She's fine. Not a hair on her pretty lil' head."

Juice felt tears running down his face again as he planted a kiss on the side of Sofia's head, taking in a small breath and smelling his wife on her - Denise held Sofia practically all day. Seeing Juice this way caused Jax to let out an audible gulp, and he had to look away before speaking up again.

"The doc came out. Said they got Denise breathing and put on one of those machines," Jax said, still struggling against the familiar anguish plastered all over Juice's face. Jax knew that anguish. He'd lived that anguish. "They monitored her for a little while and they're transferring her up to a room in the ICU, seeing if she... if she..."

"Can I see her?" Abel asked, turning around with a worried expression. "I wanna see Aunt Deedee."

"I think you should let Uncle Juice go first -"

"No, it's fine. I'll take him up, he needs this," Juice interrupted - though honestly, it wasn't so much that Abel needed it. It was the fact that Juice didn't know what he was going to find when he went to see his wife, and he was so desperate not to go alone. He gently held Sofia towards Jax, who nodded and took the girl from Juice's arms, careful not to wake her. Juice then moved and placed a hand on Abel's shoulder, guiding him back inside.

The trek up the elevator and down the hall to where they had moved Denise felt like it took miles - Abel was so silent, so blank, that Juice almost felt like there was a sense of foreboding about him. They reached the door, and when Juice got the first glimpse of Denise laying unconscious in the hospital gown, hooked up to machines and tubes, he froze in the doorway.

"How about... you go talk to her first?" he said, unable to help himself from backing away. He could hardly look at Denise like this. Abel, however, wandered forward into the room as though he was hypnotized, standing at the side of the bed and laying his head down on top of Denise's still hand.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Deedee," he said, staring up at the woman's face almost unblinkingly as though he thought perhaps he could wake her by sheer force of will. "I tried to get you out as fast as I could. I tried to open the bag real quick. I did my best," he said shakily. "I tried. I really tried. Please, don't go to heaven... my Mommy's up there. She's got friends there already - she's got Uncle Opie and Uncle Touchy and lots of other people. She doesn't need you up there. If you go... I'll be mad at you..." He paused and drew a shuddering breath. "If you go to Heaven, I'm gonna be really, really mad at you..."

Abel's grip on Denise's tightened so much that his little knuckles went pale, and Juice finally found the strength to come into the private room, placing his hand on Abel's shoulder. "She's trying, buddy," he said weakly. "She's doing her best. I know she is."

The young boy, however, simply straightened up and stared at the woman in the bed, and Juice felt another pang of guilt - in his own way, he had made this possible. If he had never covered up for Gemma in the first place, none of this could have happened. Maybe he never would have met her. But for sure, she would not have been lying here in this hospital bed in Charming, fighting for her life. The idea crossed Juice's mind that if she was just going to go out like this, maybe it would've been better if she'd just stayed with her Uncle, become one of Nero's girls at Diosa like her Uncle planned. Nero would've taken care of her. He would've kept her safe.

"Baby," he said, kneeling next to the bed after going around to the opposite side near her head. He reached a hand up and smoothed her matted hair out of her face, half-expecting her eyes to open, as though it had all been a trick. He fell silent for a short few seconds, and when she didn't so much as budge, Juice drew a shuddering breath. "Don't do this. I just got you back, baby. Don't..."

Juice hadn't realized he was crying again until his voice failed him, cracking with a sob that refused to be restrained. His hand traced gently over her face, which was pale except for a darkening bruise on her cheek. There were small scratches on her neck, and bruises on her wrists from being held down. She'd put up a fight, like she always did. Juice played over and over again in his head the statement that Denise had tried to protect herself, because he hadn't been there. He should've been there. Even _Abel_ had been there, had tried to help her.

Abel, in the meantime, had gotten into the hospital bed next to Denise, curling up next to her - he'd been so overwhelmed by the night's events, it seemed, that it was easy enough for him to fall asleep right there. Juice felt again an ache in his chest - he'd hurt so many people just by not being there. He knew that Abel was still hurting, still missing Tara, and that in whatever way she could, Denise had filled some kind of a hole for him.

"Juice."

He wheeled around to see Jax in the doorway with Sofia, and Juice quickly wiped away at his face, standing to face him. Jax let out a heaving breath, shaking his head and unable to find some graceful way to begin. "Gemma's in holding. Didn't fight back, nothin'," he explained, scratching his neck. "I'm goin' down to see her tomorrow for answers. They want Abel to see a shrink because of what he saw, so... Wendy's takin' him in to talk to someone in the morning while I'm out."

Juice's face was so blank, Jax wasn't sure whether or not the man was even hearing him, if he was listening to anything. A reaction finally came, however, when Jax spoke up again.

"Are you comin' with me?" Jax asked. "To talk to Gemma? Or..."

The unspoken end of the question hung thickly in the air like fog. Juice's only other option was to stay here with Denise and to hope something changed, to hope that she woke up, moved, breathed on her own. Anything. But sitting and waiting didn't answer anything. Only one person could provide the answers Juice wanted.

"Yeah," Juice nodded darkly. "Yeah, I'll come, brother. I got questions for your mother."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Phew. Slightly longer chapter than usual, and a lot to process. I know I said that I was going wait until after the finale to post this chapter, but I eventualy decided that I wanted my first update after the show is over to be more of the resolution of what has just happened to Denise._

_It's going to stay this heavy for a few chapters, but I'll try to make sure the lighthearted stuff comes in time for the holidays. The next chapter, we're going to see how Gemma holds up when asked a few questions about what happened, as well as a few other small but interesting twists._

_Anyway - I'm still a little bit in shock that the show is going to be over. Definitely a sense of, 'what do I do now'? So, I'm definitely glad we as a fandom have fanfiction to help us process this. The Final Ride is truly the end of an era. But, at least it doesn't end completely. We still have our stories, and we have some of the best writers right in our fandom! So, let's keep it strong! Until next time, cheers!_


	13. Chapter 13

"What's on your mind, honey?"

Wendy glanced over at Abel, sitting quietly in the front seat of her car and looking down at his hands while she drove him across town to the office where he'd been assigned his first session with a counselor, a specialist in child trauma. Jax had hated the idea of sending his son there, but Wendy had insisted that there was a lot that Abel could stand to talk about. Granted, it was also a chance to spend time with her son, but it was under a circumstance that she never would have wished on him.

It had been a rare moment of pragmatism on Jax's part when he'd very quickly realized that without Denise around to bring Abel places, Wendy was, if nothing else, the next best thing. No therapist would have a high opinion of criminals and pornstars coming to drop a young boy off to therapy, but Wendy, despite having her obvious history of demons, was likely to be the safest bet in their eyes.

She only wished it felt that way when she was sitting next to Abel, who still barely spoke. He looked so tired, as though he had aged overnight. For hours, he had refused to leave the hospital room where Denise was saying, muttering drowsily that he still had to protect her, that he was scared she would get hurt. Juice was eventually able to assure him that he'd be able to keep Aunt Deedee safe, but even in the comfort of his own bed, Abel had refused to sleep.

And now, here he was, practically a statue in his seat. Wendy glanced over at him with a doleful expression.

"Abel?"

"Aunt Deedee is really nice," he said in a quiet voice, practically shrinking into his sweatshirt. "She's a really nice lady. Why did Grandma hurt her?"

Wendy had to take a breath - she almost regretted asking. She wasn't equipped to deal with things like this. There were times that she felt so incapable. She had only just learned to handle her own problems in better ways, and she was frankly terrified of failing at making her son's any better.

"Your Grandma is very, very confused about what it means to care about somebody," Wendy said carefully. "She - Abel, I don't know why."

Unsatisfied, he sighed, not looking up from his clasped hands in his lap. They drove along in silence until Wendy finally parked the car in front of the building. She got out of her side, moving around the car to the passenger side and opening the door for Abel, who didn't move.

"Daddy said Grandma was sick and that's why she couldn't stay with us," he said, sounding even tinier and even more defeated. "I thought she was better. She took care of us. Aunt Deedee always called her to come see us. They were helpin' me with my costume. I thought... I thought Grandma was better..."

"We all did, baby," Wendy said, reaching out and gently touching his cheek. "Especially your Aunt Deedee. We don't always know why these bad things happen."

None of these answers seemed to give Abel a sense of peace, and Wendy felt guilt gnawing at her insides. She wanted so badly to say something - _anything_ that would comfort the boy, and yet everything she said seemed only to pull him deeper and deeper into his own thoughts. She never wanted to see him hurt, and she certainly never wanted to contribute to that hurt. Never again.

"I need to tell Aunt Deedee I love her," Abel continued, his brow furrowing. "I need to tell her I'm not mad at her."

"Sweetie, what are you -"

"Before bed last night," Abel said, his voice starting to shake. "I wanted to eat the marshmallows in the kitchen and she said no because it was time for bed and I'd get a tummy ache. And she made me some warm milk, and I told her I didn't want it." Wendy swore she felt her heart break as she saw his lip quivering while he spoke, but he forced himself to continue - and Wendy knew that he needed to say it, because he'd been keeping it inside all night. "I told her I was mad at her and I hated her and I went to bed. I slammed the door on her - I woke up because I wanted to say sorry, but... but then... Grandma..."

"Shh," Wendy said, leaning over and embracing him gently as he sniffed back tears with valiant effort, though a few now managed to escape. "I know it hurts, baby. We just have to keep hoping that things are gonna be okay. None of this is your fault."

"Grandma didn't hurt me," he said quietly, still not looking up. He simply pulled away from Wendy's embrace, resuming his earlier blankness. "How come I have to come here to see this doctor?"

"This is... a different kind of doctor, honey," Wendy said, reaching out and putting her hand over his and squeezing gently. "This is a kind of doctor for... for your feelings."

"I don't want feelings," Abel said. His voice was still blank, but upon looking at him, Wendy felt a stab of pain at the fact that his eyes were tearing up. "I don't want 'em. They always hurt."

* * *

><p>Calling Jax a king could hardly, at this point, even be considered hyperbole. Anyone else would have been prohibited or at the very least discouraged if they had shown up to the slammer where Gemma was being held, but the instant Jax Teller, accompanied by Juice who seemed pale and sick as he awaited his moment to face Gemma, arrived at the front desk, he was hurriedly allowed to sign in and meet with his mother. He needed to catch her now, before she was formally charged for what she had done to Denise, or else he'd lose his easy access to her.<p>

When Gemma Teller-Morrow was brought in and allowed to sit on the other side of a table from Jax and Juice, the latter man simply sat with his hands folded in his lap, unable to look at the woman.

"Deedee made it through the night. Spared you a murder charge. Still doin' everythin' she can to make your life easy," Jax said stiffly, eyeing the woman across the table. "Not that I expect gratitude from you, Gemma. No one's sacred to you -"

"That's not true," Gemma interrupted, her voice fierce and adamant despite its hoarseness from her night in a dry, dusty holding cell. "You matter to me. Thomas matters. Abel matters -"

"Abel? Your grandson that Wendy's takin' to a fuckin' shrink right now because he thinks it's his fault that his Aunt Deedee's laid up in the ICU?" Jax sneered. "I'm not here to get you out. I'm here for answers. Why -"

"Why did I do it?" Gemma asked, her expression hard as she leaned slightly across the table. "Because I've got nothing else to offer you and the boys, Jackson. Nothing. But with her and Sofia gone, the money would go to Juice and Juice's loyalties would be back with the club, no distractions -"

"My wife and my daughter aren't fuckin' distractions, Gemma," Juice snarled, still looking down at his hands in his lap. Jax gave Juice an almost reverent glance when he realized that the man was shaking with barely contained rage. "Gemma, how -"

"How could I? Quit with the melodrama, Juice. I was doing what I needed to -"

"I mean, how?" Juice hissed, his eyes narrowed as he finally raised his gaze to meet Gemma's, revealing his reddened eyes, enveloped in dark circles from his long, sleepless night watching over his wife in her hospital bed. "How did you do it? I want you to tell me how you tried to kill my wife."

"I'm sorry, Juice -"

"Abel came running to me crying," Juice continued, unwilling to be stopped. His voice grew in volume and in pace as he leaned over the table as well. "He sat next to her in that hospital begging her not to die, saying he was sorry for not getting the bag off, saying he went as fast as he could."

"Oh, God..." Gemma gasped, raising her hand to cover her mouth. How was she meant to explain to them that it was only meant to give Abel a better life, not to hurt him. "I'm so sorry -"

"What. Did. You. Do?" Juice pushed, his lip curling into a sneer.

"It - it was a plastic bag. And tape," Gemma said hesitantly, drawing herself up straight in an attempt to maintain what little composure she could. Juice practically went green, feeling sickness rising in his stomach at the thought of his wife now, gasping for air, slowly suffocating. But it wasn't enough. Juice needed to know everything. He needed to know every sin she had committed against his family.

"And Sofia?"

"Abel walked in... right when I picked up a pillow from her next to her crib..."

Now, Juice looked visibly sick, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, looking upward and gulping hard as though to fight back a violent retching sensation. He let out a humorless laugh, and thought of Darvany Jennings.

And Jax knew, the instant Gemma had spoken. He knew what would come to Juice's mind. He would remember the cabin where he'd killed Darvany, the same cabin where Jax had brought Denise to kill her uncle. For a few brief, electric seconds, it was as though the pair shared from the same pool of thoughts, the chain of events that had brought them all here.

So many small events, small actions, had avalanched into this very moment.

"My wife..." Juice finally spoke up weakly, his voice unsteady and his hands now clenched into fists under the table. "She loved you like her own mom. She gave you your family back. She and I, after everything - after what we both did to protect you," he rambled, the tether on his emotions quickly coming undone. His palms slapped loudly on the surface of the table, and he rose slightly, leaning over so his face was close to Gemma's. "If she dies, Gemma, I swear to you -"

"Enough." Jax said authoritatively, rising to his feet and placing a hand on Juice's chest, pushing him back into the chair he had risen from. Juice still shook, and he seemed hard-pressed to remained seated; Jax kept a hand on him until his heaving breaths slowed, and then he turned back to his mother. "You're out. You have no more family here. You've turned on everyone who has ever tried to save you, and the game is over. My son -"

Now, Jax's voice briefly failed him, and he raised a fist over his mouth, practically having to bite his knuckle to maintain his composure. "If Deedee dies, it'll wreck him even worse. So when they drag you back to that cell, pray to God she lives and cross your fingers He listens," he managed to say.

And those were their parting words - Gemma felt a sort of numbness wash over her as she watched them leave. No one understood. All she had ever tried to do was create the life for them that they deserved, even if they didn't know it was best for them yet. She only wanted what was best.

Jax and Juice both looked incredibly weary as they made their way out, but Juice was not beyond noticing the strange, infuriated expression on Jax's face as he looked back down at the sign-in sheet that he and Juice had hurriedly scrawled their names onto on their way in. He hadn't even bothered to look at it until now, and Juice, unable to help himself, moved over to look down at the names just above theirs on the list.

Charles Kwan and August Marks.

"They came to see Gemma, " Jax said grimly, and now, it was his face that seemed off-color, while Juice simply shook his head in awe. "They were here first."

* * *

><p>"And you're sure you can make this happen? Sheriff?"<p>

Althea Jarry could hardly believe what she had agreed to - but now that Mayor Bollinger had practically decimated any hope she had for a career in Charming, or anywhere in the state, she was forced to find allies where she could. And that was what had led her to August Marks. It was only right. August Marks was the only one who held anything over the mayor's head that could move him to give back what he had taken from Jarry. He was the devil, and Althea knew it - but he was the only one who could get her back what was hers.

"Gemma's going to be transported tomorrow morning. Little bird told me," she assured him, standing at attention while he sat relaxedly in an armchair. A little bird, of course, meant her new, very green interim replacement that she'd very graciously enticed into sharing information with her. "Everything will go as planned. I'll make sure there are no foul-ups."

"For your sake, there had better not be," Marks said coolly, looking down over himself and calmly smoothing out the front of his suit jacket, but not rising or making any gesture of reverence whatsoever. "I make very simple requests, Sheriff. Very direct requests. So I have no concept of understanding for people who fail me."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Short chapter this time around! Don't want to overwhelm you with too much of the heavier plot details just yet because if you're anything like me, you're still adjusting the show being over. It's especially rough for me to give Juice such a heavy, sad subplot already, but it's all necessary for the story, promise!_

_Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this short chapter! The next one should be coming for you soon. But in the mean time, mull over some theories about what's going on, and let's see if any of my lovely readers/followers/reviewers can foresee the events of upcoming chapters! I've had some very spot-on guesses from reviews in the past. Until the next update, cheers!_


	14. Chapter 14

"Is this serious?"

"Court's approved it and everything - you know how things go in Charming. If it's got the name Teller on it, just sign off and live to work another day."

The clerks at the sheriff's office were abuzz when it came to the latest developments in the Ortiz-Teller case - a courier from the court had just brought over the latest stack of paperwork, among which was jammed a signed psych evaluation on Gemma Teller-Morrow, recently administered by Doctor F. Hicks, provided on the stationary of Marks Incorporated.

"Remanded into the care of Doctors Behavioral Health in Modesto, under the supervision of Doctor Ferguson Hicks. Effective... _tonight_," one of the clerks read in a hushed voice. Mutters of distaste filtered through the section of the office that received the paperwork. One of August Marks' company doctors, of all people, had signed off on the evaluation that made an insanity plea possible. But, so quickly? The combined sway of Morrow and Marks, it appeared, was enough to make just about anything happen - even change the truth. "Says here that she didn't know what she was doing when she tried to kill Juice's wife."

"Bullshit," another clerk said, rolling her eyes as she typed away on her own keyboard at her desk. "Gemma Teller doesn't do shit without knowing exactly what it is she's doing."

"Just file the paperwork, ladies," the oldest of the clerks said, clicking her tongue before taking a long swig from her hot cup of coffee. "You know better than to blow the whistle on these kinds of things. That's how people end up dead in this town."

* * *

><p>"You look like shite, sweetheart. 'M sorry for that..."<p>

More to help keep Juice assured that things were okay, and that no one could make things worse while Denise was in such a vulnerable state, there was always someone in a kutte keeping watch in the hospital room. Happy had just handed over his shift to Chibs, who pulled up a seat at the bedside and leaned over, kissing the young woman's forehead.

So many people seemed to take the blame for what had happened to her, but Chibs took credit for it himself. If not for him, for Jarry, for SAMBAY - if not for all of the choices he so vehemently regretted in the past year, Denise would have never gotten so close to Gemma. Denise would have stayed in Charming, given birth to Sofia in Charming, and Gemma would have run off to escape Jax's wrath - without Denise, Gemma would have never come back at all. The girl had, Chibs surmised, such a good heart despite all of her rough edges, but her good, forgiving heart had gotten her into this mess.

"I always thought it was those big brown eyes that put a spell on everyone - but ye can't even open 'em now, and you're still on everyone's minds. We're all thinkin' about ye, lass."

Chibs groaned slightly, shaking his head and buried his head in his hands. "Ye can't go," he said with a slight laugh. "I couldn't deal with a burden like that - knowin' my choices are the reason you and Juicy and Sofia couldn't be a family for so long. I couldn't live with it, knowin' I took that time away from ye with no way to make up for it."

"Consider it a favor for old Chibbie," he chuckled, reaching out and patting the back of her hand. "Just wake up -"

But just as Chibs made the request, he was met with a loud beeping noise, and a sudden movement on Denise's part. At first, he thought that she had somehow complied, somehow woken up, but in a split second, he glanced her over and realized that she wasn't conscious. Her entire body had just tensed up, her back arching, her arms splaying stiffly at her sides.

"Nurse!" he roared, rising so abruptly from his seat that the folding chair was kicked over with a loud clang as he ran to the door of the hospital room. "Something's wrong with her! Help!"

* * *

><p>"Shh - baby, I don't know what you want, I'm sorry..."<p>

The weight of Denise's absence was most felt during the early morning hours, when baby Sofia woke up in the middle of the night and Juice had to strive, all on his own, to figure out how to comfort her. Denise was the expert. She knew the difference between a cry that said Sofia was hungry, or cold, or itchy in her onsesie. She was an expert at getting bottles to a perfect temperature, humming the right lullaby.

Juice's heart ached to know that Gemma had taught her so many of these things, and that she had turned around, taken every ounce of nurturing she'd given, and thrown it out the window.

In the two days since Denise had been in the hospital, there were times that Juice took hours to comfort his daughter. There were times that Juice wanted to cry too because he suddenly felt so inadequate in a way he hadn't felt in such a long time. He became keenly aware of his own sense of suffering, of the burden of staring at the phone and willing it to ring, just so he could hear someone from the hospital telling him to pack up his daughter and hurry over because his wife was awake. Forty-eight hours so far, and that call had never come.

It was early in the evening when there was a knock on the door, and he got up to the door with Sofia in his arms to find Jax, Wendy, and the boys - Jax and and Wendy in particular stared at him in concern, and Juice nodded inside, inviting them in.

"Thought you could use a little back-up," Wendy said carefully, with both boys meandering in behind her. Abel weaved past the woman's legs and walked over to Juice, hugging him around his legs. Juice let out a breath and patted the small boy gently on the head.

"I had a dream about Aunt Deedee last night," Abel stated when he finally pulled back. "She said she's gonna be back soon. And Aunt Deedee doesn't tell lies. Maybe tomorrow," he suggested. Juice gave a weak laugh for the boy's sake, but the other adults in the room picked up instantly how forced a sound it was.

"You look like you could use a few drinks - you got a couple beers in the fridge, how about we bust 'em open, sit out on the porch?" Jax suggested. Juice wasn't in much of a position to protest, and as much as he loved his daughter, he was exhausted from the short days of having to care for her alone. Juice followed Jax out to the porch - he remembered when Denise had sit out here with him and Jax, when they'd gotten stoned out of there minds and Jax had asked for all that Juice knew about the day of Tara's death. Now, he was sitting out here with no weed, and no wife - and being alone with Jax Teller, as amiable as things seemed now, was still highly unnerving without either of those things.

"So you and Wendy?" Juice asked, flipping open the tab on his can of Sam Adams. Jax gave a noncommittal laugh and shrugged - Wendy was around, sure. They went places together. But he hadn't bothered much with deciding what any of it meant. He leaned back in his chair, taking a swig from his own beer.

"You and Deedee are good for each other," Jax said calmly, doing what he could to change the subject. Juice gave a choked laugh, nodding in agreement. Of course they were good for each other. Sensing that it had done little in the way of easing the tension of the situation, Jax gave another shot in the dark at changing the subject. "Alvarez said he won't hold that run against us. Says he gets why SAMCRO had to bail."

Again, Juice made an uninterested noise - he didn't care what Alvarez thought about bailing on the run, to be frank. Alvarez didn't matter. The Mayans didn't matter. The club didn't matter. If not for them - for all of them - he'd have been at home with his wife. He felt a dark, hot anger boiling inside him as the thoughts flashed across his mind of how far he would've gone to _stop_ Gemma from doing it.

"I don't get it, man," Juice said, his gaze trained on the ground as he shook his head. "I don't get why it happened. Not to Denise."

"I do."

Juice looked up immediately and saw a strange expression on Jax's face. Pained. Guilty. Juice's brow furrowed and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, struggling and failing to find the words to seek out answers. Jax inhaled through his nostrils.

"I told Gemma that we were going to send her to Marks, buy us a little time with him," Jax said, his jaw tight. "Said she owed it to me and to the club - and she panicked. This is on me," he said, shaking his head. "That's why she went after your wife's money -"

And then, suddenly, Juice had let his beer fall to the ground, leaping to his feet and hoisting Jax out of the chair by the front of his kutte and shoving him into the corner pillar of the porch. Jax, for his part, shut his eyes and prepared for Juice to lash out, for fist to meet face. Jax knew he was responsible. He blamed himself enough for what had happened to Denise, to one of the few people who had been good and loyal and true to him, and by Jesus_, _Jax felt like he needed to get right with that. He needed to be punished for it. Instead, however, Juice stood in front of him, his breaths heavy and violent, his eyes wild and crazed.

"So what is this, Jax?" he said, throwing his arms out, his voice higher than usual and choked. "Payback? For Darvany? For Tara -"

"No, brother," Jax said, shaking his head. Calling him _brother_ seemed to break Juice somewhat out of the spell he was under, and his breathing gradually calmed. "I meant it when I said those debts were paid. I didn't want this. I put this on all of us but I didn't want it. Denise is - she's my friend. My boys love 'er. You think I wanted them to go through this? You think I want Abel to go through this, thinkin' it's all on him? I did this and I need to get right - and if anyone has a right to deal out that punishment, it's you."

"If I didn't know better," Juice said, his lip curling slightly. "It'd almost sound like you're saying you love 'er."

At this, Jax laughed, shaking his head. He should've known that the thought was still buried in Juice's mind - the fact that Jax had known Sofia first, the picture in the newspaper. He knew Juice was terrified of losing his wife again, in whatever form _losing her_ could come in.

"Your wife helps me remember to be a father," Jax said honestly, making an open gesture with his arms and nodding before taking a small step forward, clapping a hand on Juice's shoulder. "She's - she's my best friend. Not because of the club, but just because of who she is. Who I am. I ain't had a friend like that since... since..."

"Since Opie."

A silence settled over the pair, and Jax unconsciously traced his finger over the patch on his kutte that read, '_In Memory of Opie_'. No one could ever take Opie Winston's place, but Denise filled a hole where one had been left for a long time. Jax often joked that it was like Opie, who loved the club, and Donna, who hated it, had both come back, folded into the same person. "She's my conscience," Jax continued. "She calls me on my shit."

"She does that to everybody, brother," Juice laughed weakly, crossing his arms over himself and shaking his head. "When she wakes up, she's gonna call me on mine - the house is dirty, Sofia's socks don't match..."

Juice wanted so badly for Denise to wake up - he constantly talked about what would happen when she woke up, when she came home, but every conversation was tainted with the ever-present possibility that Denise _wouldn't_ wake up. His forced laughter died away, and he let out a cough. He opened his mouth to talk, to at least attempt to continue some semblance of a conversation. Before he could, however, Wendy gently opened the back door, looking cautious - she glanced over her shoulder and made sure Abel wasn't listening and was instead distracted by trying to teach Thomas how to hold a video game controller before she spoke up in a low voice.

"Chibs just called, it's about Dee," she said quietly, keeping the news from the boys. "She had some kind of... of seizure or something. She's alright now but she gave everyone a real scare. I don't want Abel to know this, though. He's been having a rough time. You two should go check up on her."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Again, a mixed bag of events that just needed to be covered in this chapter! Lots of information to soak in, not too much action yet. The next chapter, which will come either tomorrow or Tuesday, will be more action than talking, and then I'll have a happier chapter up for everyone by Christmas. Not too happy, but definitely happier than the past few._

_Having a hectic time of things with work and the holidays, but I'm hoping not to keep you all waiting too long! Until next time, cheers!_


	15. Chapter 15

"You miss Mommy, huh, Fifi?" Juice asked, lying on the couch yet again with Sofia laying on her stomach, her head raised so she could look at her Daddy's face, cooing and babbling. "I do to, baby. I do too..."

The fact that Denise was, on occasion, having seizures was enough to have Juice completely spooked, but it had only happened twice in the past few days. He'd only seen it once - and once had been enough to convince the hospital staff that Juice should never be in the room if it ever happened again. It killed him to be at home when Denise was in the hospital, but at the same time, he didn't want her to wake up and find out he'd been a letdown of a dad. It was the last thing he'd ever want.

He was busying himself with playing with his daughter - or rather, studying her, trying to get to know her the way Denise did, when suddenly, his phone rang. Securing Sofia with one arm, he reached for his phone with the other and answered.

"Juice - it's me. It's Brucey."

"Brucey," Juice said, sitting up suddenly and shifting Sofia in his arms so she was still positioned safely, craning his head as playfully tried to reach for the phone. "What are you callin' for? Isn't it your shift at the hospital -"

"Your ol' lady opened her eyes."

Juice froze, his mouth hanging open slightly. Denise was awake. She was alive. She had survived. Even if he knew nothing else about his wife's current condition, this was news worth knowing, and, as far as he cared, worth celebrating.

"I'm comin' right over with Fifi," Juice said urgently, getting to his feet. "Don't tell the rest of the club yet, Brucey. No telling or I'll never vote your ass into SAMCRO, a'right?"

Juice was, of course, not entirely serious - Brucey, among all of the prospects they'd had in SAMBAY, had been the one he'd felt most inclined to vote into the club. He shared a first name with Unser, his name being Wayne Gottheim. Juice, on his part, had been sure he'd heard him say Gotham when he introduced himself, immediately asking if it was "Gotham, like Bruce Wayne" - and so the name Brucey stuck. Brucey was, himself, a New Yorker by birth but a Texan by upbringing who still held doors and pulled out chairs, and constantly referred to Denise as "Ma'am" - something she was very vocal about hating. Brucey, of course, looked up to Juice more than any of the other club members, which many of them couldn't for the life of them understand. He followed Juice around, almost like a personal assistant - so much so that Denise at times referred to them as '_Juicy and Brucey_'.

Sofia was the only thing that kept Juice going the speed limit the entire way to the hospital, and the only thing that kept him from leaping up the stairs three at a time - not the wisest idea while Sofia was in her baby carrier. He finally reached the hospital room and found Brucey standing outside the door waiting for him.

"The nurses and the doc are lookin' at her right now, but she's awake - talkin' a little bit," Brucey said, pale in the face and consciously wiping away the sheen of sweat on his forehead. "But man - I was there when she opened her eyes, it was... shit -"

"Language," Juice said, raising his eyebrows and covering his daughter's ears - Brucey snickered, seeing how quickly Juice had picked up his wife's habits in her absence. "So you did as I asked, right, Brucey? You didn't call the others?"

"Just Flick," Brucey nodded dutifully, looking genuinely pleased with himself. Flick and he had become good friends in the process of prospecting. Best friends even. "I didn't tell Jax or anyone else-"

"Did you tell Flick not to tell anyone?"

And at that, Brucey fell silent, his eyes widening - Juice's nostrils flared slightly, and he reached out to clap the prospect on the side of the head, hurrying into the room to see the two nurses and the doctor checking out his wife. They were glancing her over with penlights and stethoscopes until they finally seemed pleased with their assessments, and finally turned back to look at Juice with a smile.

"Your wife seems to be out of the woods," the physician said with a smile, walking over and gently patting his shoulder. "We'll give you a while with her. Just don't overwhelm her too much -"

"Baby?"

The small, slightly slurred voice coming from the bed had Juice jolted like he'd been struck by lightning, and the hospital staff bowed out quickly while Juice hurried over to the bed and sat next to her, staring at her in disbelief, clutching his daughter close. Denise, for her part, looked tired and thin in the hospital gown, but her eyes were alive and active, flitting back and forth between her husband and daughter.

"Oh my God," she said, her voice still garbled from the feeding tube still going down her throat since she hadn't been eating on her own. Tears immediately leapt to the young woman's eyes as she looked at her daughter. "Sofia, you're - you're okay -"

"Shh - don't cry," Juice said, reaching out and running a hand over his wife's hair, his gaze practically pasted on her. "You heard the doctors -"

"It was Gemma, " Denise said, shakily reaching up and placing her hand over Juice's as it rested on her cheek. "She - she -"

"I know. They got 'er, baby. I'm so sorry," Juice continued, shaking his head, feeling the weight of guilt settling on his shoulders yet again when he saw the pain in his wife's eyes now that she was awake. The fact that he hadn't been there to stop it was even more painful now. "Abel called 9-1-1 -"

"He saw that?" Denise asked, her eyes welling up even more. "Oh God..." Her voice trailed off, and she took in another slightly stronger breath but still not able to force herself to sit up yet. "I'm so sorry. I -"

They were interrupted with the sound of knocking, and they looked over to see Brucey peering his head inside looking incredible nervous.

"I'm really sorry," he said, reaching up and scratching the back of his head. "But they're downstairs -"

"They?" Juice asked, raising his eyebrows yet again - was this how everyone felt about him? Was this what it felt like, not being the screwup prospect. "Who's they?"

"Everybody, Ma'am," Brucey said, taking a step back from the doorway as though Juice's gaze was shooting knives in his direction. "What should I tell them?"

"Let them come up," Denise said hoarsely - hopefully. Juice turned around and glanced at her for a short moment before inhaling through his nostrils and looking back at Brucey.

"Whatever the lady wants," he nodded. Brucey's shoulders shrugged in relief, and he rushed over to tell the others what the Ortiz family had decided about having visitors.

In the last few minutes they had before everyone came upstairs, Juice turned back to his wife and took Sofia out of the carrier, holding her closer to Denise so she could place a kiss on her daughter's chubby, pink cheek. Juice, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at his wife as though he was scared she was a mirage, an apparition, that this would all end up some kind of dream, the most painful dream he would ever need to wake up from. In that brief, quiet moment, she finally looked back at him with a small, tearful smile.

"So they called the whole club over just for me?" she said with a laugh that hardly sounded like a laugh at all, but rather a series of smalls puffs of air. Juice laughed as well and reached out, giving her hand a small squeeze.

"Aunt Deedee!"

The first person to come up the elevator to the room was heralded by the sound of a high-pitched voice and the rapid pattering of tennis shoes on the sterile hospital floor. Abel immediately appeared in the doorway, assuming his spot on the side of the bed opposite Juice just as Wendy followed, carrying Thomas in her arm.

"Deedee! Deedee!" Thomas cooed, reaching out with his hands and giggling in the woman's direction. "Deedee 'wake!"

"Yeah, she is," Wendy smiled, bringing him over closer to the bed. "You wanna say hi, baby?"

"Hi baby!"

Again, Denise managed a small laugh while Abel was busy clambering up onto his usual chair, plucking the many Get Well cards he had drawn for Denise off of her bedside table so he could show them to her.

"I heard you were my little superhero," Denise said fondly, finding the strength to reach up and stroke the side of Abel's hair gently, smiling at him. "You're so brave. My Superman, huh?"

At this, the burdened, pained expression that had plagued the little boy's angelic face ever since that fateful night melted away, replaced by a broad, toothy grin at the realization that his Aunt Deedee didn't feel like he had failed her. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before hopping up off of his chair, leaving the cards he had made on her lap in bed. "I'm gonna go get Daddy!" Abel said happily, rushing out of the room. As he left, Wendy moved over to the bed, smiling at Denise while Juice helped get the head of the bed up higher so Denise could sit up slightly.

"He needed that. So much," Wendy said, reaching out with her free hand and squeezing Denise's. "It's been killing him ever since - well, you know."

"I'm sorry," Denise said with a sad smile, at a loss for anything else to say. "I really am."

"You can't be on your phone up here, I'm - oh. Mr. Teller, I'm sorry!"

The sound of a very surprised nurse in the hallway outside foreshadowed Jax's arrival a few moments before the fact, and as he walked in the door, he was visibly tucking his phone into his pocket with one hand while being dragged by Abel on the other.

"Deedee," he said fondly, moving over to the bed and kissing the side of the woman's hair before looking around at the IV pumps and the feeding tube she was still hooked up to. "Nice setup you got here," he smirked, eliciting a small, lopsided grin from the woman in the hospital bed.

"It really is," she smirked back. "I may never go back to solid food again. This is great."

"No solid foods?" Tig's voice came from the doorway. "Just what you need, to get more scrawny. Welcome back, Sleepin' Beauty."

"I don't think beauty's the word you're looking for," Denise said, starting to feel slightly tired but unwilling to turn anyone away as the began entering the room one by one. She knew she was a mess, but it didn't matter. Being back felt amazing. Juice felt a bit put out by the fact that everyone seemed to be edging in on the first few moments he had with his wife for what felt like an eternity, but he was distracted when Jax caught his eye and nodded for him to follow outside. Juice, who was still carrying Sofia, slipped away while Denise and the others sat around, listening to Abel read his many get well cards.

"What's goin' on?" Juice asked. Jax, however, was unable to answer right away. He shook his head before managing to look up from the floor.

"Dee can't know this - it'll be too much for her right now," he said dismally. "But that phone call was from Alvarez. Turns out his nephew just started working as a courier for the courthouse and he's got news about Gemma's case. She's getting released today -"

"What the -" Juice began, halting his use of expletives only because his daughter was still in his arms. "No. There's no way. She confessed -"

"Marks had a specialist do an evaluation. Expedited a deal," Jax said, his jaw clenching as he gulped audibly, shaking his head, visibly disturbed by the news. "She's being released to the custody of some shrink in Modesto on Marks' payroll."

Juice inhaled sharply again, looking away and only barely stopping himself from shaking. Did he truly deserve this? To have every bit of good news he received tainted because of Gemma? He held his daughter now almost like a security blanket while the little girl reached out, waving her tiny hand in the direction of Uncle Jackie, babbling happily.

"She's gonna get away with it," Juice said blankly, shaking his head. He had helped her get away with killing Tara, and now, she was going to get out of this too. His face paled, and he looked up at Jax almost pleadingly - the man guessed at what this meant, and he reached over to pull Sofia out of the baby carrier and hold her, which Juice backed into a chair in the hallway, burying his head in his hands.

"They're transporting her to Modesto this afternoon," Jax said sullenly. "And after that, who knows? All I know is Dee can't know this yet. She needs a while to get better."

"Yeah," Juice agreed, unable to look up from the ground in shame. He had messed everything up so badly. Denise had fought so hard to come back to them, and now, he had to bear the burden of knowing a secret that would hurt her even more.

Thankfully, they were again interrupted and Juice no longer had to dwell on these thoughts for the time being, as the elevator doors nearby opened to reveal one late arrival to the 'Welcome Back to the Land of the Living' party that the day had turned out to be. Nero Padilla stepped out of the elevator, marking his first time coming to the hospital to see Denise since the incident. He approached the two men and Sofia wordlessly, shaking his head.

"Word gets around fast," he explained simply.

"You skippin' town?" Jax asked.

"Wanted to," Nero said honestly, shaking his head. "But with things as they are, I can't leave Diosa the way it is. Not yet."

"Good," Jax nodded. "We need you, Nero. Help us stay good with the Mayans, they're the only friends we've got."

Nero nodded silently, and the lack of ability to speak for the time being had a clear reason - he wasn't going to bring up Gemma, out of respect for the fact that the daughter of the woman Gemma had just tried to kill was right there. And he cared about Denise, about Sofia - they mattered more for the time being, no matter how much he loved Gemma, how much he wanted answers.

"Can I head in? See how Chinita's holding up?" he asked, crossing his arms and shifting his weight. Jax looked to Juice, who nodded, and both men nodded towards the room.

"Gotta take a number, man. Abel's not diggin' the idea of lettin' anymore borrow his Aunt Deedee's attention."

* * *

><p>Gemma left her holding cell with her head held high, despite the fact that the entire place was buzzing with whispers about her, theories about what she had done to get out, despite having tried to kill another SAMCRO ol' lady - if only they knew.<p>

One of the deputies escorted her out and saw her into the back seat of the car clearly labeled as belonging to the facility she was being remanded to, but she felt know joy in knowing that she was getting out of being tried for her crimes. She had been overtaken with a deep kind of numbness, knowing what was happening to Abel. She could get over the guilt of what she'd done to Denise and Sofia, but the guilt of what her actions had done to her own grandson left her weary.

As the car pulled away and onto the open road, Gemma emerged from her own thoughts long enough to realize something: the driver of the escort car was wearing a wig. An ugly, clearly synthetic blonde wig. Realizing that Gemma was looking at her, the lady driver glanced at her rearview mirror and nodded slightly before removing her shades and wig.

"So you're in on this freakshow too, Sheriff?" Gemma asked, looking slightly impressed. Her impression of the woman in the driver's seat certainly had not been suggestive that she, of all people, would play a part in orchestrating Gemma's escape. Althea Jarry chuckled stiffly before putting her eyes back on the road.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Gemma," she stated simply, pressing her foot on the gas a little bit harder now that they were on a long, straight stretch of road. "Why else does anyone else sell their soul to August Marks? I'm more surprised to see you."

And Gemma knew precisely why this was a surprise - going to Marks meant betraying her son. But they didn't understand - she had to live. She was no good to anyone dead or in prison. And somehow, she was going to find her way back - she believed in her own abilities to set up dominoes so much, indeed, that she was sure she was the only one who could clean up this mess of a situation.

They still needed her, Gemma convinced herself. They had to need her.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Well, the good news is, Denise is awake! She's not going to have an easy time of things, and she's waking up to an even bigger mess of a situation, but for now, the fact that she's out of the woods is worth celebrating. I'm hoping to have a few more chapters up before Christmas, but work and family stuff surrounding the holidays has been a little crazy._

_I wanted to give a special shout-out to **RhondaL** who powered through and left me a ton of reviews, all in one go - started yesterday in On the Rocks and got all the way up to the current chapter of this story. I hope you're enjoying so far, and I hope not to keep any of you waiting too long for the next update!_

_The next chapter will be somewhat calm, with a little more of Denise's recovery and a fair few interesting conversations. Right now, we're in a little bit of a slow burn because it's so close to Christmas and I need to ease into the intense action (I'm still in the process of rewriting the chapters I lost). But rest assured, these chapters are needed so that all the pieces fall into place when the action ramps up!_

_Anyway, I'm (as always) so grateful that you all are reading and enjoying! I hope the story continues to keep you interested, even in these slow moments, and if you have any ideas or feedback, feel free to send them my way! I have the ending of this story planned out, but the part in the middle is slightly flexible so I might be able to work in a few events to tickle your fancy! But anyway, until next time! Cheers!_


	16. Chapter 16

"And this is where you'll be staying, Mrs. Teller."

August Marks had shown up without Charles to greet Althea and Gemma when they pulled into the gated, walled entry drive to his latest office building. It had taken two days to arrive, with constant car-switching and abandoned safehouse-hopping in order to throw everyone off of their trail.

Having arrived at their destination, Gemma, for her part, wordlessly followed until she was shown to a tucked away high-floor suite that would have admittedly been spectacular if not for that the fact that it didn't have any windows. August left Gemma to get settled in Jarry's company, and, now that they were left alone, the women stared at one another.

To be fair, they had never been fond of one another. Jarry indeed harbored deep bitterness towards Gemma, for helping to cultivate the Charming culture that had been a death knell to her career. But now, they were in business together. They had to be allies - they were no longer welcome among SAMCRO and in the town of Charming because of their respective betrayals. This was all they had left.

"So, you tried to kill Kwan. Money started to look good after all?" Jarry asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly. "Gemma, you are a piece of work - you're getting sloppy. You had a whole year to do it and you chose now -"

"Sheriff, you should know better than to open your mouth about things you don't understand. You don't know shit about me and Denise. I love that girl," Gemma said stiffly, stalking towards Jarry and drawing herself up to full height, looking the woman in the eye. "Like my own -"

"Like your own? I don't see you trying to Saran wrap Jax's head," Jarry said, unable to resist the chance to challenge the Queen of Charming herself now that the opportunity was so plainly placed in front of her. "But then again, I hear she would've been the second kid of yours that you killed -"

There was a loud smack as Gemma's hand - bare, for the first time in a long time, of any rings - collided with the side of Jarry's face, and her head snapped to one side. She sneered, and retaliated by slapping Gemma across the face as well. Gemma, however, was through. She wouldn't waste any more energy on this woman, because it wasn't needed. But the insinuation - the thought that she would have done something to harm her own child, warranted some sort of consequence.

"So what makes the Sheriff turn herself into August Marks' little bitch?" Gemma asked snidely, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the reddening mark on her face where she'd been struck. "No one casts their lot with the devil for shits and giggles, sweetheart. Chibs had enough of you, so you went looking for a higher class dick to choke on?"

"Don't call me sweetheart," Jarry sneered in disgust, her eyes flaring in anger - she had enough of these condescending nicknames from the men in training, at work, all her life really. "I've worked too hard," she continued honestly. "The only way to keep a career in Charming is to turn it to a different town. Change it from what SAMCRO made it into. What you made it into. August Marks can do that for me."

* * *

><p>"You hid this from me for two days?" Denise asked shrilly, unable to believe what she was hearing while SAMCRO was practically holding chapel at her bedside. "Gemma's been out for two days and you tell me now?"<p>

"We wanted you to get your strength back, babe," Juice said sternly. "She's hurt you enough, and it was our call - we didn't want you to take ten steps back just because of -"

"I deserved to know," Denise said weakly. She had been especially irritable in these past couple of days when she'd quickly learned that because of the loss of oxygen to her brain, she'd have a ways to go, rebuilding her strength and her ability to control her movements. She could talk just fine, but she still wasn't able to eat on her own, to walk, to pick things up for herself. The complete dependence on others was maddening.

"She went to Marks," Jax spoke up, spilling the final piece of the puzzle that was being withheld, and as it tumbled out of his mouth, the others seemed to stand aside silently, knowing that with everything on the table, the discussion was about to get much more serious. The beeping noise in the room grew rapid, and Juice winced at the realization that Denise's pulse grew faster as she learned the news. "She's betrayed us all - me, my boys, the club," Jax said with a frank gesture of his arms. "You vouched for her, you brought her back here, and she did this - I have no mother, Dee. She betrayed us to cover her own ass."

Denise fell quiet at this, looking defeated at the fact that there was nothing she could say in good faith to counter the statement - she, herself, would have expressed her hatred for Gemma as well if she'd only had the strength to truly feel it in her current state.

"I didn't think it was right for you to know that you're in danger like this," Jax admitted, crossing his arms. "But now that you know - Juice and I agreed. You will always have one of us posted outside your door."

It was possibly the most heartbreaking thing for Juice so far, seeing that Denise didn't put up a fight when Jax told her this - she hated the idea when Juice had brought it up to her, that she should have someone protecting her, but now, she had no choice. She was truly defenseless, unable to look out for herself.

The biggest relief of the past couple days was possibly the end of that one - Denise was a little stronger, much more lucid, and the rest of the club had cleared out, save for Brucey and Flick, who volunteered to take the first shift of the evening after Juice. The pair of prospects had gone down to the cafeteria, to give Juice time alone with his wife. He was sitting by her head, holding out his phone and flipping through the pictures he had taken of Sofia in the time that Sofia had been unconscious - he had missed her smile, and this was the easiest way to bring it out. For now, Wendy watched Sofia while everyone visited with Denise, mostly because Denise was still unable to even hold her, and she was scared of her baby daughter being in a hospital full of sick people.

Juice had lowered the siderails of the hospital bed on one side so he could sit next to her, to feel close to her again. He reached over and stroked her hair, hardly able to speak because he knew that it was still hard for her.

"I can't wait until you're home," Juice said honestly, eliciting a small smile from his wife, who was able to reach up and place her hand over his, attempting to give it a weak squeeze. "How'd they say you're doin'?"

"I'm supposed to be starting physical therapy soon," she said, sounding defeated yet again. "Hopefully walking soon, eating human food," she added with a forced laugh. "God, I'm so -"

"Don't say it," Juice said, reaching out and running his hand over the side of her face, knowing that she was about to belittle herself, as though she'd asked for this, as if any of it had been a choice. "Don't even start that, okay? I don't care if I gotta fireman carry you everywhere forever, I love you - I'm gonna take care of you, no matter what I gotta do."

He grabbed her hand and brought it up to brush his lips across her knuckles, and surely enough, both of them were crying. This entire ordeal was just so painful, so defeating. Juice felt so useless, knowing that as good as his intentions were, he couldn't ease any of what Denise was going through.

The only reason Juice was able to pry himself away from Denise's side was because she reminded him that he needed to pick up Sofia, and that he could come back in the morning - but by the time she had managed this evening, it was almost ten in the evening. He leaned over and kissed her forehead gently, lingering for a good while before pulling back and staring at Denise. "I'll be back before the sun, baby," he said with a small smile. "Promise."

The quiet that had now come upon the room after Juice had left was strangely refreshing - Denise didn't necessarily like being alone, but the past couple of days since she'd woken up had been emotionally trying. It hurt, though she would never say it in so many words, seeing everyone look at her with worry and pity. She never wanted to be that person, the poor victim, that damsel. That wasn't who she was, not who she strived to be. She felt tears running over her cheeks, and she felt relieved that Brucey and Flick were sitting outside, chowing down on vending machine burritos. She wouldn't have known how to feel about crying in front of them yet. Instead, once she had vented as much as she needed to, she simply allowed herself to doze off.

She wasn't sure how long she napped for, but she knew that she slowly returned to wakefulness with her eyes still shut - she heard the sound of something scraping slightly against the floor and opened her eyes, expecting to see Juice back - but she was quickly mistaken.

"Charles."

She caught sight of her older brother in the moonlight and her gaze went cold - it took a moment to register the fact that he was in a wheelchair. Her husband's handiwork. Her brow furrowed, and her breaths grew slightly more shallow.

"Leave," she sneered. "Where are -"

"Those two idiots outside?" Charles asked calmly. "Paid one of the nurses for something to slip into their drinks. We have a while."

Denise bristled, feeling strangely protective of the two SAMCRO prospects - they were slow at times, they were careless and childish, but it didn't mean that she felt right about them being drugged on the job. "This wasn't supposed to happen to you. To us," Charles said stiffly, his eyes glancing over his younger sister in the hospital bed. "I didn't want any of this."

"Neither did I. I guess that's the only thing you and I still have in common," Denise leveled. There was no use getting angry, it wasn't as though she could fight him, being in the state she was in. Charles wheeled himself as close as he could with her bed, leaning over and trying to reach out for her hand.

"I didn't want to fall in with Marks, I didn't have a choice," he said, his gaze filled with an almost believable sense of terror that inclined Denise to at least let him speak. "I'm not a criminal, Mei, all I wanted was -"

"You weren't a criminal. You are now," Denise replied. "You attacked me. You left me to die. You tried to take my daughter away from me. You've turned into him. Uncle Henry."

Charles' jaw clenched at the very frank confession from his sister, unable to accept it. He shook his head. "He's dead. Uncle is dead, Meimei. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Just come with me, and August will -"

"I'll die first," Denise interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "I'll never work for Marks. Never -"

"It'll be the best thing that ever happened to you, Mei - he'd not a good man, but he'll get us everything we ever wanted."

"You don't get to decide what's good for me anymore, Charles," she said coldly. "This - Charming, my family, SAMCRO - this is what I choose. You don't get to decide for me anymore. That's over."

Charles backed off slightly, hissing quietly as though he'd been burned, his gaze somewhat dazed on his sister as he realized that she was no longer the angry, confused girl who followed him in his every move. "One day, Meimei," he said slowly. "You will forgive me. You're my sister."

"You remembered that a little too late, Charles."

And for a brief moment, Denise saw it. Her brother, for that small moment, was truly hurt - truly human. "_Man zou_, Meimei." Take care, little sister. Denise inhaled slowly, feeling her throat tightening so that her reply came out quiet and forced.

"_Zaijian_, gege". _Goodbye, big brother._

The finality of the statement, the loss of his sister, his only remaining family, seemed to truly strike Charles as even in the stark moonlight, his face looked more pale. He inclined his head in a strangely reverent bow and wheeled away. Once the sound of his wheelchair disappeared into the distance, Denise drew a shuddering breath, feeling a few warm tears streak their way down her cheeks.

"What the..."

Brucey and Flick came into the room, looking confused - Denise realized they must have caught a glimpse of Charles as he left, and they stared at Denise with extremely guilty expressions on their faces for having failed at guard duty. For a prospect a foul up of that proportion was practically the end of the road. Sensing their fear, Denise shot them a small smile.

"I won't tell anyone," she said quietly. "As long as you two don't."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_A little more slow burn for you! There's a lot of foundation to set before the shit really hits the fan, so sit tight. We're getting there!_

_I had one of you guys ask in a PM about casting choices for Brucey, and I haven't really cemented that in my mind yet. I have a picture in my head, but no good casting choices. If it comes, though, you'll know! I love casting my characters, because I'm a GIF addict and I love making Tumblr gifsets with scenes from the story._

_Anyway, I'm working away at the next couple chapters for you, and I'm hoping they'll be done quick! I love hearing from you and your reviews brighten my day. I'm having a hectic holiday season, and you two are getting me through in one piece, so again, as always, thank you guys! Cheers!_


	17. Chapter 17

Denise realized that it was for the best that people first learned to walk when they were babies, at a time that would fade from their memory soon enough - because, frankly, learning to walk was embarrassing. You tripped, you fell. You felt confident, and still fell. The experience of having to practically learn it all over again was - humbling, if you were being tactful, and humiliating if you were being realistic.

Juice had been a trooper about things, and Jax had not hesitated in letting Juice off the hook for the occasional run when it came to a choice between the club and one of Denise's physical therapy sessions. Constantly dodging pillows being thrown became a source of relief for Juice, even if he didn't always get out of the way in time, because the fact that his wife was strong enough to throw them in the first place was amazing. It was a good sign, even if it came in the form of her being royally pissed at him.

It was a full two weeks before Denise could take steps mostly unaided and eat on her own, but she was soon given the thumbs up to go home, so long as she committed herself to continuing her recovery - to actually resting. Hearing the news, Lyla had been the first to put together a welcome home party in the Ortiz home, with everyone there to greet Denise like a hero returning home from war - but no alcohol, Lyla insisted, because as much as they all could have used a drink, Denise couldn't have one, and if she was going to have to suffer through sobriety, then everyone else had to as well.

The big 'surprise!' when Denise walked in the door, however, caused her to flinch visibly, glancing around the room - she smiled, but lingered near the door, staring around at everyone while Juice held her by the crook of the arm, making sure she was okay on her feet.

"Wow," she said with a nervous laugh. "I - wow. I... I just... I need some... air..."

She gently pulled her arm away from Juice and retreated back inside, and Wendy, seeing the concerned expression on Abel's face at his Aunt Deedee's sudden exit, gently stepped forward through the crowd and grabbed a hold of Juice's forearm before he walked out the door after her.

"Let me try talkin' to her, yeah?" she asked gently. Juice paused appraisingly before nodding, and Wendy slowly headed out to the porch, where Denise had retreated to a corner, looking out at the street with her arms crossed over herself in the cold air. "Hey, Deedee," she said, reaching out and placing a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "A little too much excitement for one day?"

Denise gave a choked laugh, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes, unable to turn around and look at Wendy in shame of the fact that she was actually crying right now. "I'm sorry. It's - it's not the party. God, I'm such a diva," she laughed, shaking her head. "It's just - coming back into the house, back into that living room, know that that's where it happened," she admitted, shrugging in defeat. "It's not even that I remember that I almost died in there. But this whole time, every time I close my eyes, I imagine her, standing over my baby's bed and actually considering hurting her. I think about Abel coming in and seeing that. And I was there and I didn't do anything."

Wendy felt Denise's shoulders shake, and gently draped her arm across her shoulders, squeezing gently. "It's not about that anymore. This is your home," Wendy insisted. "This is your home, and in there? That's your family. You didn't ask for any of this, and you're not to blame for it - you gotta take all of this back. It's yours, not Gemma's," Wendy insisted. For a moment, Denise's breaths seemed to hitch, to stop completely, before she finally turned around and pulled Wendy into a hug that caught her by surprise, making her pause a brief second before reciprocating. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay. You're home now - that's your family, and those are your friends in there. Lyla even says the boys agreed to no beer, just for you. Now if that doesn't say love to you..."

Wendy pulled back and smirk in Denise's direction. "There's a party in there waiting for its guest of honor. C'mon."

Denise took a few more breaths before allowing Wendy to go ahead, holding the door for her as she made her way in. Seeing the calmed expression on her face, Lyla finally launched over and placed her hands on Denise's shoulders, leading her into the room. "You're a stick bug," Lyla said, glancing her friend over with a raised eyebrow as she led her over to the food table, which the men had clearly helped themselves to. "Ellie and I made most of this -"

"You cooked, Ly?" Oh, God," Denise laughed with a lopsided grin. "Those tube-feeding sound pretty good right about now, where -"

"Hey, excuse me, Ma'am," Lyla smirked, knowing how much the woman hated Brucey's term of respect for her. "I'll have you know that I worked very hard on the cooking -"

"You read Ellie the recipe and she cooked."

"Exactly."

"But I made these!" Abel said, hurrying forward and holding out a plate of decorated cookies - they were meant to be Christmas trees, but they had ended up colored in whatever manner Abel had felt like, and the bright, creamy frosting covered the fact that some of them were, indeed, very burnt. "Auntie Lyla helped me put 'em in the oven -"

"It looks like Auntie Lyla almost forget to help you take 'em out of them oven, buddy," Jax said coming over and scooping up his son so Denise didn't have to crouch over to grab one of the cookies off of the platter in Abel's hands. 'Good thing you got all those sprinkles on there to cover 'em up, huh?"

"Yeah!" Abel said with an excited grin. "Here, try one!"

Denise, of course, was a pro at this by now - at the art of blurring the line between actually liking something, and passing enough to make sure Abel wasn't discouraged by the fact that his sugar cookies looked a little bit like charcoal, covered in paint. At this point, Abel could have made her a milkshake made of rocks and mud, and Denise could have still convincingly said that it was the best she'd ever had.

"And there's more!"

Lyla waved towards the hallway, where Brucey and Flick were standing, and the pair of them on Lyla's command escorted out Thomas and Sofia - with Sofia still being carried by Brucey, dressed in little elf costumes.

"Please don't tell me you borrowed those from one of your sets to put on my baby," Denise laughed, earning a playful jab in the ribs from Lyla. Thomas hobbled over staring down at the small, pointed shoes on his feet adorned with a bell on each end, kicking his feet exaggeratedly to make them jingle loudly. Denise reached out and hugged Lyla warmly.

"Welcome home, Deedee," Lyla smiled, laughing and leaning into the shorter woman's embrace. "We missed you."

Denise spent the rest of the afternoon entertained by the fact that the boys treated her like she was made of porcelain. Happy, for one, would scoot the entire coffee table away when Denise got up to walk, as though bumping in to the corner might break her in half. Chibs made sure she got up as little as possible to begin with, stopping her and asking what she needed before she could rise fully to her feet. For the entire party, Denise felt strangely at ease, despite the fact that the house was crowded and loud and hot - it was only once things had cleaned up and everyone had left that she really had a moment to think about things.

"Christmas is already next week," she said with a tired smile while she and Juice sat on the couch with Sofia nestled into her father's arms - they were alone now as a family, for the first time literally in weeks, and now, in the dim hues of sunset streaming in through the window, Denise was indeed very glad to still be alive. "I dropped the ball on this one. Our first Christmas as a family and I haven't done a thing -"

"We've got a week," Juice said with a lopsided grin, wrapping his arm around Denise and pulling her closer to him, his expression calm, but at the same time, still in disbelief that despite all of his shortcomings, he had somehow been granted a chance to have his family here again. "Baby, I promise you - you are gonna have the most kicka-"

"Language."

"The most kickbutt Christmas you have ever had," Juice finished smoothly. "That's a grade-A, Juan Carlos Ortiz promise."

"Let's have Christmas here," Denise spoke up suddenly - and Juice felt a sudden, almost ripping sensation. On one hand, he knew this trick. She wanted to host Christmas to prove that she was okay, that she could take care of everyone instead of the other way around, and with Christmas coming up in a week, Juice wasn't sure if Denise would be able to handle it so soon. On the other hand, however, there was the fact that he wanted his wife to do things that made her happy - and because the pull of the latter impulse was so strong, he conceded. Besides, he thought to himself when Denise gave a small satisfied grin and nestled back into his side to rest, clearly exhausted already from the day's events - allowing Denise to take over the job of making dinners, of being Mama, was the next logical step in exorcising Gemma from their lives - and that was what they needed. Even if they stood no chance at changing anything else, even if Marks and the Triads were a force that couldn't be beaten, purging Gemma Teller's influence from their lives would be, in Juice's mind, a small victory at least.

* * *

><p>Gemma was beginning to wonder if she might have preferred the bare walls of a mental hospital - it was almost Christmas, she remembered. And instead of being surrounded by kids, by family, by decorations and the scent of pine, she was in a room that was generic, emotionless, and decorated like a hotel room.<p>

"I guess now is a bad time to bring you the good news."

Gemma looked up to see Jarry in the doorway - because August and Charles were both occupied with the business end of things, it was Althea Jarry who was charged with keeping an eye on the former SAMCRO matriarch, and she took snide pleasure in her duties. She needn't have bothered keeping such close watch, Gemma conceded. It wasn't as if she had anywhere else to run anymore.

"Juice's wife is home. They said a Miss Wendy Case has been helping her around the house," Jarry said, sauntering around the sofa in the room to stand in front of Gemma's perch in one of the armchairs. Gemma sneered, putting down the magazine she had been pretending to be interested in while Jarry continued speaking. "And my sources tell me she's doing great, if that matters to you, She's even making Christmas dinner. Didn't that used to be... your job?"

The smile on Jarry's lips awakened the urge in Gemma to slap her again, but she didn't feel motivated to get up and waste the effort. "Yeah," she answered sullenly. "It did."

"Well," Jarry smirked, crossing her arms over herself. "It looks like they've really got no use for you anymore. Imagine that," Jarry said, leaning close to Gemma. To an outsider, it was very much like a child feeling overconfident at the zoo, poking fun at a bear in a cage. "Mama Teller disappears and the world goes right on turning -"

And finally, Gemma had gotten fed up with her taunting, reaching out and grabbing a fistfull of Jarry's hair, slapping the side of her face down against the nearby table. Gemma released her hold, allowing Jarry to get up and clutch the side of her face, nursing her bleeding lip. Gemma gave a small smirk of satisfaction.

"I guess you wouldn't know how I'm feeling. Sweetheart," Gemma said, rounding on Jarry and condescendingly reaching out to gently touch the side of the younger woman's face. "Maybe they don't need me now - but no one's ever needed you at all. You're a has been. And no matter how hard you try, you'll always just be that Lady Cop who tried to clean up my town and failed. The Police Pussy that Chibs got tired of. That's all you are, honey."

Jarry sneered, still clutching her face with one hand and swatting Gemma away with the other. Her eyes still narrowed in anger, she headed back for the door.

"Thanks for comin' to see me, sweetheart," Gemma called after her. "Merry fucking Christmas!"

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Merry Christmas indeed. Speaking of which, the next chapter will contain (among other things) the SAMCRO family Christmas party, which I'm still putting the finishing touches on. It's going to be mostly lighthearted, because it's about that time of year and I'm using my author's discretion to say that I want to include a little bit of fluff!_

_It was such a strange experience, having a Tuesday with no SOns of Anarchy to wait up for, but I'm not having any serious withdrawals. I think writing has been a huge part of me gradually tapering down from the series. It makes writing some parts a little tough, because we're inching closer to the part of the story where more people are gonna start suffering - and I have some plans for a couple of these guys. So, enjoy the nice, easy pace of things while it lasts!_

_I wanted to extend a special thank you to all of you for being so generous with your reviews, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story! Sometimes, I consider posting longer updates, less often, but I just love the feel of making each chapter feel like a short episode, with a little bit of everything. How do you guys feel about the updates? I'm always open to suggestions! Until next time, cheers!_


	18. Chapter 18

"I still think we should lock the boys out," Lyla said, raising her eyebrows as she put a package of pasta into a pot of boiling water just as Denise had asked. "We don't need the boys coming in and trying to get a sneak preview of everything. I don't know about anyone else but Kenny's at that growing-boy-age where he'll eat anything. Everything," Lyla groaned. Denise and Wendy glanced at one another - with everything that had happened lately, the three, who at any other point in their lives would have never been able to be friends, seemed to have come together nicely.

Wendy, in particular, seemed to be trying hard to pay her dues and be there for Denise in any way possible, because while Denise was unable to do a lot of things, Jax gave Wendy a chance to jump in a play a bigger role. It didn't evade anyone's notice that she had been staying over at the Teller house more often.

Sofia was perched happily in a high chair, watching the ol' ladies prepare dinner, and Denise was often distracted by something particularly adorable her daughter was doing - considering she had missed a whole two weeks, which was practically eternity for a baby who grew and learned so much by the day, everyone felt compelled to cut her a little slack. Thomas, too, was sitting in a high chair, though he was quickly becoming too big to need it. But he still enjoyed it, because he liked doing the same thing as Sofia.

"Shit - this is amazing. This is -"

"Out, Tig!" Denise said, raising her eyebrows and pointing at the door, realizing that while they were busy on one side of the kitchen, some of the men had started sneaking over. Tig in particular had pinched off a small piece of ham that Denise had just finished preparing. "That's your last freebie -"

"Hap! Put the creamed spinach down or one of us is gonna shoot your di-"

_"Lyla."_

Lyla clapped a hand over her mouth abruptly - she always found Denise's obsession with not swearing around her baby amusing, and by the way her face quickly reddened, she was trying hard to keep from laughing.

Denise laughed, rolling her eyes. "Jesus Christ -"

"- was born this night, sweetheart," Tig smirked, sneaking off one last small piece of ham before leaving the kitchen area with Happy and rejoining the other men outside on the patio.

"Get Brucey and Flick in here for me," Denise called after him. "I need the prospects on potato peeling duty."

"Yes, Ma'am," Tig smirked as he dipped out the door, shutting the door behind him. When the two prospects didn't come inside within a few minutes, however, Denise frowned slightly and excused herself to go head outside and check on what was happening. It turned out, the boys had already had a few drinks. Abel was attempting to play football with Bobby, who must have drawn the short straw and as punishment, was forced to spend Christmas Eve trying to keep up with a six-year-old. Denise grinned when she realized that Nero had arrived, bearing gifts of tequila and a platter of food that they had already started digging into. They had started playing poker at a pop-up table on the porch, but he put his cards down and got to his feet to greet Denise, kissing the side of her head and squeezing her around the shoulders.

"I'm glad you came," she said, reaching out and hugging the older man back. Denise knew, of course, that it was hard for Nero to come around often, with the situation with Gemma being what it was.

"Couldn't miss your first big family dinner, _Chinita_," he chuckled, his speech already slightly slurred. "Hope you're not tirin' yourself out too bad."

"Nah," she Denise went around to check up on everyone, making sure to shove Brucey and Flick towards the door to go inside. However, as she went along and took a census of everyone outside, she realized that there was one face missing from the festivities. "Where's Chibs?" she asked aloud.

The men paused and glanced at one another, and Denise felt highly out of the loop until finally, Juice was the one to speak up and answer his wife's question.

"Chibs doesn't do Christmas," he said matter-of-factly. Denise frowned, and looked to the others for confirmation, receiving a few nods.

"Well," Denise said resolutely, crossing her arms, an expression crossing her face that Juice knew all too well. That expression could only mean that she'd decided on something and had no intention of _not_ getting it. "He's going to do Christmas this year. I'll be back."

* * *

><p>People knew to leave Chibs be when it came to the holidays - he was more than content, he claimed, to stay holed up in a dormitory in the clubhouse with a bottle of scotch. Multiple, usually. So, it came as a surprise indeed when a knock came to his door, and he hesitated before standing up to open it.<p>

"You're terrible at hiding."

Chibs smirked, shaking his head at Denise's greeting as she slid past him into the dorm room, taking a seat on the chair by his bed. Normally, he would have stopped someone barging in on him this way, but considering the sense of debt he still carried on his shoulders towards the girl, and the fact that she looked exhausted and in need of a seat, was enough to convince him to change his standard reaction to being barged in upon.

Denise's eyes flitted slowly over to the bottle of scotch sitting half-empty on the dresser, and then on the photo that sat on the bed. The photo was one of two women that Denise had never seen before, and she glanced over at Chibs questioningly. He gave a gruff chuckle before walking over to the bed, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees.

"My girls," he said simply. Denise nodded in comprehension - she'd heard from Juice before that Chibs had a wife and daughter, a family whose lives he had never really been a part of, save for a few fleeting encounters. "What were your Christmases like, growing up? With your family?" Chibs asked, his brow furrowing. Denise had to stop and think - a time when she'd spent the holiday with her family, with Charles, her father, and her grandfather, felt like they had no longer even been in the same lifetime.

"It depended on the year. Sometimes we were at home. Sometimes, we were as far away from home as we could get," Denise said with a distant smile. "Baba - my father," she corrected quickly, realizing she hadn't called her father by the old Chinese term of endearment for many years now. "He always tried so hard at Christmas because, well, Charles and I didn't have a mother to cook us nice dinners, to tuck us into bed, to tell us stories. He was very... professional," Denise admitted with a laugh. "Baba and Grandfather, they loved us so much, but they didn't know how they were supposed to show it. So, they made up for it by making Christmas this... this enormous spectacle."

Denise allowed her eyes to drift shut, and for the first time in years, she realized that she had allowed herself to feel sad, to miss her father and grandfather's Christmases. Chibs chuckled, reaching out and placing a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"Christmas in Ireland was always somethin' else," he said, now mirroring the sad smile on Denise's face, his voice drawling slightly from the scotch he'd already partaken in. "For a while, I promised myself, one day I'd go legit. Clean myself up. Let my girls experience a real Christmas, with our family together the way it ought've been. Never happened," he shrugged. Denise nodded, and for a short few moments, they fell silent. Chibs withdrew his hand, putting on a familiar show of clamming up, so familiar that Denise practically knew his question before he was able to ask it.

"Wha' about your last Christmas?" he asked. The question didn't need answering, however. He knew that Denise had spent in pregnant, without Juice, all because of him. Not only had he failed his own family on Christmas, he'd now had to live with the fact that he'd torn another family apart on what ought to have been a precious, special time for them. The softness of Denise's expression, however, revealed to Chibs that since she didn't need to say anything, she wasn't going to - she wasn't going to rub those mistakes in further. "I don't deserve this kindness from you," he added. At this, Denise gave a small laugh.

"That's the thing about that stuff. Kindness. Forgiveness," she shrugged, now leaning forward closer to Chibs. "You don't decide whether or not you get it. You only decide whether or not you give it."

Chibs laughed throatily, looking up at the ceiling upon hearing the statement from her. "Please, come over for Christmas dinner," Denise said simply. "I almost died, I think you can afford to humor me a little."

"Poor little rich girl, so used to getting her way," Chibs chuckled, shaking his head, but the change in his eyes brought about a smile from Denise, as she realized that she'd somehow convinced him. "Let's go."

"Good. Hopefully Happy hasn't eaten everything," Denise smirked, getting up from her seat and opening the door, nodding out to her car - she wasn't about to have him take his bike with half a bottle of scotch sitting in his stomach.

The change in Chibs' demeanor just from the simple fact that someone had actually reached out to him and not taken no for an answer was clear - now, rather than a weary, doleful expression, he drunked wailed along with the Christmas songs Denise flipped onto the car radio, still mumbling through the verses of 'Good King Wenceslaus' as they pulled up and got out of the car in front of the Ortiz home.

"Chibbie!" Juice barked out, standing up from the poker game they were currently in. "Looks like the Grinch's heart finally grew it's ten sizes -"

"Uncle Chibs is the Grinch?" Abel asked in confusion, distracted from his attempts to pull Bobby up off of the ground, where he'd decided to lay down in exhaustion from still being forced to play football for hours with the little boy. Seemingly in the Christmas spirit, Happy finally got up and helped the older man to his feet, ready to take a turn at entertaining Abel. Denise noticed with a comical scowl, however, that he had in fact helped himself to a bowl of creamed spinach while she was gone.

There was something nice about being whole on Christmas - as whole as they could possibly get, anyway. It was loud, and Denise had quite a job ahead of her, trying to keep Sofia's ears covered from their coarser language, but there was something particularly endearing about Tig's attempts to speak completely in euphemism in front of the babies, and Happy's insistence on simply spelling out all of his curse words. Ellie, in particular, had taken over the role of policing the others, while Kenny seemed dead set on trying to sneak in curse words when he could, just because he could

Chibs even went as far to say a blessing over the food once everything was finished, and once everyone had loaded up their plates, Denise was lingering around the kitchen to keep seats free for everyone else. Surveying the room, things simply seemed... calm. Jax and Wendy were sitting together with the boys on one sofa, laughing and smiling. Brucey and Flick had been tasked with feeding mashed potatoes to Sofia, who was now dressed in a Santa hat. However, when she happened to dribble most of it out, Happy came over and snatched the spoon from Brucey, proceeding to feed the baby proper-sized bites himself.

Juice came over to the kitchen with his plate and leaned against the counter next to her, fishing something out of his pockets. Denise looked up to find him smirking and holding up a piece of mistletoe up over their heads. Denise laughed, rolling her eyes and gently socking him in the shoulder before grabbing a fistful of the front of his shirt and yanking him forward to kiss him deeply. Juice pulled back and rested his forehead against hers with a smirk.

"You're such a cheeseball," Denise laughed. "But I love you anyway."

"This is amazing, baby. I still can't believe you got Chibs to come to a Christmas party," he muttered. "I mean, Jesus Christ -"

"- was born this night," Denise smirked, echoing Tig's taunt from earlier in the evening. "It looks like about time to put the kids to bed -"

"No!" Abel moaned, jabbing his finger in the direction of the Christmas tree. "But what about presents?"

"Presents are for Christmas morning, because Santa hasn't brought the rest of 'em yet," Denise pointed out. "So you're gonna watch over Fifi and Tommy and go to bed. You and Kenny and Ellie, becausey you're the big kids."

"Fine," Abel groused. "Can you and Auntie Lyla come with us? And Mommy?"

Wendy immediately sat up straight - Mommy. Just Mommy. Not "Wendy", not "Mommy Wendy". Though the difference was subtle, it was so strongly felt that she immediately had to reach up and wipe at her eyes, while Jax wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently.

"Alright, sweetie," Lyla spoke up. "All the mamas will hang out with you guys, and these old geezers will go back to playing cards and keeping watch for Santa on the porch." Or, in truth, the old geezers would be going to pick up the presents from Santa that they'd hidden away to place under the tree.

Satisfied with the arrangement, Abel walked over to the tree and picked up the book he had placed down there - 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Wendy, Lyla, and Denise glanced among one another, knowing that this meant one of them would have to read it to him. Finally, their gaze landed on Ellie, who sighed in resignation. It looked like she was going to be put on storytime duty.

If this was what Christmas was going to be from here on out, Juice decided as he watched the women happily herd the kids into the bedroom, then new things weren't so bad after all.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And that's Christmas! Or, at least, the first part. I hope you guys didn't mind semi-Grinch Chibs! The next chapter picks up just shortly after this one, and is going to be a reminder that even on Christmas, the outside world still exists._

_I'm definitely hoping to have the next chapter up before Christmas, but it might happen shortly after, just because work and family stuff over the holidays will probably come down in an avalanche, and my time may be limited. But just in case I'm not able to update or reply, I hope all of you have the happiest of happy holidays, and your readership is one of my best presents this year! This is the first time I've been really active in updating a story around the holidays, and it's been amazing having all of my readers and reviewers be a part of my holiday season._

_After the holiday fun, the club's mess with Marks and the Triads is going to pick back up and shake up a lot of the fluffy fun we've been having here, so be prepared. This is still the Sons of Anarchy universe, after all! Until next time, cheers!_


	19. Chapter 19

_"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"_

Ellie yawned as she finished the final line of the book she was reading to the younger kids and glanced around to realize that they had all fallen asleep before her. She scowled slightly at the three older women watching over them, grousing that they could have told her that everyone else was already sleeping while she was reading.

"You were just enjoying yourself so much, honey - you had a little Santa Claus voice going on and everything," Lyla laughed quietly.

Soon enough, Ellie had fallen asleep as well, leaving only Denise, Wendy, and Lyla awake.

"Christmas is always weird," Lyla pointed out tiredly. "I always feel like Santa is standing on street corners calling me or something."

"What?"

"Well, all I hear is an old guy yelling, ho! Ho! I guess old habits die hard," she added with a smirk. Denise frowned slightly.

"In the spirit of Christmas, I'm gonna let that one slide."

But in the middle of their placid teasing, the door opened with a creak to reveal Jax with a hardened expression. He locked eyes with Denise and cleared his throat quietly. "You need to come outside," he said sternly, attempting to keep his voice down. "We got a problem."

Denise glanced around, hesitating before heading out to follow Jax. They walked through the house to the back door, the door that faced the edge of town where you could see out of Charming, out to the city lights a good way down the freeway. On a good night, which this evening happened to be, you could see clear out between the hills if your eyes were sharp. This evening, however, there was one spectacle in particular that called their attention - a neon sign visible in the distance that hadn't been there before, with the Lin family name in Pinyin. Seeing the bright red neon sign set against the dark night sky made Denise recoil visibly, her arms wrapping around herself consciously as it forced into her memory the sight of the bright red, livid burns on her skin when they had been fresh over a year ago.

"It just lit up, just now," Juice said, hurrying over and bracing his wife around the shoulders. "Right at midnight -"

"It's another club, they opened another one," Denise said, shaking her head incredulously while she was unable to tear her gaze from the sign. It was far away, tiny from this distance, but the fact that it could be seen at all was jarring. Who, after all, would want to have the symbol of their tormentor written across the sky in lights? Denise could not describe the sensation that it brought, a combination of being unable to breathe, being numb, being furious.

They were coming closer and closer to her home, closer and closer to her family. It felt like eons ago, she had promised Juice that she would stay back, that she would keep away, but by the look that settled into her dark eyes, Juice could see how close that promise was to breaking, like a fraying rope attempting to hold back an angered beast.

"Chibs, Hap," Jax barked, nodding towards the side of the house around which they had parked their bikes. "We'll go stake the place out, see what kind of business they're runnin'. Deedee, you stay here - keep Christmas alive," he said with a lopsided smirk, attempting to inject some levity in the situation. Inexplicably, Juice seethed at the way Jax took control. Even if he knew he didn't care about Denise like that, there was still a sense of questioning. What right did Jax have? Denise grudgingly smiled back, nodding.

"If there's anythin' fishy, anything that needs translatin', I'll take Chinita out with me tomorrow," Nero piped in. "If this place is anythin' like the others, Alvarez is gonna want the info too -"

"Nope," Juice said, puffing himself up slightly and crossing his arms across his chest. "No fuckin' way you're loadin' my wife up on Christmas Day to check out a whorehouse with you -"

"Unless you know anyone else who can understand Chinese, I don't think we got a better bet, kid," Tig spoke up. "Besides, I've seen your wife with a gun, she might be a better shot than you are."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Tig."

"I aim to please."

Despite the playfulness of the banter, however, Denise's face remained sullen and pale - it became woefulyl clear that as much as she tried to be better, tried to be normal, she hadn't quite bounced back yet.

"I'll worry about this for now," Jax said resolutely. "I'm takin' Happy and Chibs - the rest of you, make sure the presents get where they belong under the tree. No fuckin' way we're lettin' Yellow screw this up for the kids - no offense, Deedee."

"None taken."

And, per the president's orders, Christmas went on without a hitch. Denise was sitting next to Juice who had Sofia perched happily on his lap in pair of reindeer pajamas when Jax walked back in the door, looking tired but none the worse for the wear. Abel immediately leapt to his feet and picked up the pair of rollerblades Santa had brought for him to show his dad.

"Aunt Deedee said that she was gonna let me skate in the backyard after breakfast," Abel said proudly. "As long as I promised to wear my helmet the whole time. And Tommy got a tricycle and a helmet too. Are you gonna watch us, Daddy?"

"I sure am, buddy," he said, crouching down and planting a kiss on the side of the boy's head. Tommy, on the other hand, was perched on the seat of his trike in the middle of the living room, ringing the bell on the handlebar incessantly and laughing so hard that his face was going bright red. Jax's gaze, however, fell on Denise, then on Nero on the other side of the room. Denise's hand closed tightly around her husband's when she realized that this meant they needed her help. Juice's jaw clenched when Denise looked at him. He knew that she had to go - as much as he hated the idea of his wife and club business overlapping again, she had to go.

"Well, man," Denise said aloud - more for Abel's sake than anything else. She got to her feet and straightened out the knees of her pants. "Nero, didn't you say you left some of the presents over at your place? D'you need me to help you pick 'em up?"

"Yeah," Nero lied, getting to his feet as well. "That'd be great, Chinita. Let's go."

Denise, however, felt a sinking feeling of guilt, running off on Christmas Day to play Nancy Drew for SAMCRO - it was the first Christmas that she had her whole family together. But it wasn't her fault, she convinced herself as she sat in the passenger seat of Nero's car, making their way down to the new location. She hadn't asked for Marks and her brother to make a pass at their territory, to threaten her family's safety. A line had to be drawn. Action had to be taken.

"Your husband don't seem thrilled with Jax's call on this one," Nero pointed out carefully. "You sure this is good with you two? I know this is important to you, chinita, but once it starts gettin' in the way of family, you gotta be smart enough to call it. You gotta know when to quit."

"I know when to quit," Denise insisted, inhaling and looking straight ahead now. "And it's not now."

"Alright, chinita. Whatever you say," Nero shrugged. Denise, by now, knew that the tone in his voice meant he disagreed but didn't feel compelled to stage his closign arguments about the subjects just yet. She exhaled through her nostrils, pulling her leather jacket tightly around her shoulders and leaning back into her seat.

They pulled up near the building they'd seen the previous night after following Jax's directions - it was closed for business, it appeared, as all of the lights on the outside were out, including the large Chinese symbol emblazoned in neon, front and center. Nero pulled his car around towards a back alley a few buildings away, and Denise hopped out the door.

"Chain link fence," she nodded towards the back lot of the building. "I think I can get around quick enough alone."

Denise turned on her heel to hurry off, only to have Nero bark out after her - "Mami." She paused with a slight roll of her eyes, turning back and pulling her Beretta out of the waistband of her jeans to assure him she was armed and able to protect herself, to which he nodded in assent. "You're too ballsy, Chinita. Gonna get yourself burned one day," he warned. Denise simply smirked, shrugging her shoulders before hurrying off towards the fence.

Nero watched carefully as she shimmied her way underneath and made her way to the back door of the building. Once she had made her way inside, however, Nero reached under his own seat to pull out his own gun, getting out of the car as well. A gentleman, after all, didn't send a lady into a warzone alone.

* * *

><p>Denise was sure that the front end of the new Lin Kwan lounge location looked nothing like the back end she had just snuck her way into - all creaking, leaking, moaning pipes, and cement brick walls. She found herself in a storage area, dimly lit with a single lightbulb. Pausing and holding her breath to make sure no one was around, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket to serve as an additional light for the room's far corners. Her brow furrowed as she realized what this room was being used for.<p>

Jax and Juice had been right about the gun running.

She flinched when suddenly, she heard the sound of sniffing - whimpering, perhaps crying. With a pause to ascertain the direction of it origin, she took a few silent steps towards the sound and realize that it was coming from behind a door - a solid wooden door with a dusty, grimy glass panel to which Denise held up her phone to see a woman inside the room. It was tiny, perhaps closet-sized, and otherwise empty. The crying woman looked up, and Denise immediately recognized Wenya, the girl from the other club, except now, her face was bloodied and bruised, as were her neck and shoulders.

Denise hurried over and undid the multiple bolts on the outside of the door, quickly realizing that this room was specifically meant for holding girls when they misbehaved. The metal bolts creaked as they moved with rust grating over rust, but Denise eventually managed to pry all five open, yanking the heavy door open.

Wenya, who looked even thinner than before, immediately leapt forward, launching towards Denise, who braced for an attack only to find that Wenya wrapped her arms around her, sobbing. "Please help me," she said, desperately clinging onto Denise. "Xiao-Mei, it's you! Please help me -"

"We're gonna get you away from here - shh," Denise said, holding the girl up and trying to pull her towards the back door. "You just gotta be quiet, okay? Come on -"

Denise turned, now with Wenya in tow, and started back towards the door - the latter woman followed willingly, so much so that Denise wondered what she'd been put through to warrant being so willing to run away. They reached the door, and Denise reached over to open it. She flinched when she saw an armed figure standing outside, drawing her own gun and steeling herself to draw first blood until she realized that it was just Nero.

"You followed me?" she hissed in annoyance. "I told you -"

"Who's she?" Nero nodded to the woman behind Denise.

"This is Wenya - one of my brother's girls -"

"Your brother?" Wenya asked in a scandalized voice. "You're - you're Meimei? Charlie is your brother?"

Denise bristled at the fact that they knew who she was, that Charles had been telling the women who worked for him things about Mei-mei at all, but rather than expanding, she nodded curtly and put an arm around Wenya, pushing her forwards towards the fence. They hurried quietly out back to Nero's car, and Nero pulled off his sweater to put around Wenya's shoulders.

"What are you doing out here?" Wenya asked suspiciously once they were settled back into the car and on their way back to Charming. "Charlie says Mei-mei wants nothing to do with him -"

"I don't," Denise assured. "But I need to know everything I can about what he's doing, putting up these places so close to my home. I need to know what the plan is -"

"I can tell you," Wenya said, her eyes widening hopefully. "I'll tell you everything I heard as long as you never send me back there. I'll - I'll be your maid. Your babysitter. Hooker. I'll do anything..."

Denise glanced over at Nero, who simultaneously glanced over at Denise - they'd had the same idea. Nero Padilla was looking for new girls, and he was good to his girls. They shared a small smile with one another before Denise tossed a calm grin back at Wenya over her shoulder.

"He's got you," she told Wenya, nodding in Nero's direction. "None of this roughing up bullshit."

"What happened to you, girl?" Nero asked, glancing back at Wenya in the rearview mirror. Her gaze grew shifty as though she was afraid of even retelling it, but she inhaled heavily and began speaking in a slightly quavering voice.

"Mr. Marks was looking for a girl to take back with him. Needed a little... stress relief," Wenya explained. "Charlie said I shoulda been honored he picked me, but when I came onboard, I had rules. I don't service, you know... Black guys," she said, raising her eyebrows. "And I'm not a racist. I just heard too many bad things. Can't afford to be damaged goods, you know?"

Denise struggled to keep from vomiting, clearly disgusted by the discussion, but Nero, clearly the consummate professional in this line of work, nodded in understanding.

"You work for me, you can say no to whatever clients you want," he explained. "I'ma keep you safe, alright? Nice place to stay, new clothes. I take care of my girls." A relieved smile crossed Wenya's face, and she eased back into the seat of the car. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep and stayed that way all the way until their return to Charming.

"This is bad," Denise said quietly, shaking her head and glancing back at the their new charge. Now, in the bright daylight, her bruises were even more evident. "We can't let them keep doing this," she said.

"You're right, mami," Nero resigned. "We're in this now. We're stuck."

They finally pulled up back in front of the house, and the instant Denise opened her door, she could hear Abel laughing out back, and Thomas still tinkling the bell on his tricycle. She pulled out her phone to call her husband to come out for a brief on Wenya before bringing her in. Within minutes, all of the men had come out around the side to meet them, with Wendy and Lyla presumably watching the kids. Nero and Denise stepped out of the car, but Wenya lingered in the back seat, straing warily out the window at the unfamiliar men.

"Wenya is - was one of my brother's girls from the lounge," Denise explained. "They were keeping her locked up in the back room in a closet."

"Come out here," Jax said, nodding at the car and gesturing for Wenya to step out. She hesitantly opened the door and stood, pulling Nero's sweater tightly around herself. "D'you need anything?"

The question seemed to catch Wenya off-guard, the show of concern so strange and unfamiliar that it seemed to confuse her. She opened her mouth a few times and stammered before words finally came to her.

"I - I could use some food. A shower," she admitted, her arms clutching over her stomach. "If - if his girls are allowed," she said, nodding towards Nero. "If not-"

"Nero's girls are family," Jax said with a lopsided grin. "Anyone good with him is good with us."

Almost anyone, anyway.

Wenya gave a small smile as Denise put an arm around her, bringing her inside for some new clothes and hot food. When Wenya emerged from the shower - spending nearly an hour inside the bathroom - with some clothes borrowed from Denise and the blood and sweat washed out of her hair, it became evident to most of the other guys why she was one of the lounge's prized girls.

Dinner time came around - Christmas dinner leftovers, hot cocoa for the kids, and a little something stronger for the adults - and in the hullaballoo of the prolonged celebration, the rest of them eventually noticed that Happy's gaze lingered on Wenya a little longer with each drink he had. Denise worked hard to conceal a snicker when he volunteered to give her a ride back to Diosa at the end of the night, rather than letting her ride back with Nero. Eventually, after nearly two straight days of celebrating Christmas, Juice finally had his wife and daughter to himself at home, and the three settled in their usual spot on the couch.

Denise slumped tiredly next to her husband, her eyelids drifting halfway shut. It was clear she was exhausted, and had admittedly, probably over-exerted herself, but it had been well worth it in her mind. She'd hosted her first Christmas, and saved a girl from her brother. Juice leaned over and gave her a slight squeeze.

"How many times I gotta tell you, you ain't ready to go back to playin' Superwoman full time yet?" he asked, only half-jokingly. Denise gave him a lopsided grin, nestling into his side as she often did andreaching over to gently stroke Sofia's hair - the little girl was already sleeping on Juice's chest, her thumb jabbed resolutely into her mouth. Denise wasn't one for the cheesiness or the hysterics, but in this moment, having her family together like this and knowing she had actually been able to help someone, she felt like she could play Superwoman _anytime_.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And again, Merry Christmas! (Or, as of this posting, Merry Christmas Eve Eve!) Sorry for the long delaye between chapters, the holidays have been a really crazy time for me. I tried to include a little bit of everything this chapter, so I hope that you guys enjoyed it! I'll keep this note brief. Until next time, cheers!_


	20. Chapter 20

"Sorry, Prez."

Happy walked into Church late - again - with an obvious sheen of sweat on his forehead that he wiped off with his forearm and a barely concealed smirk on his face. Jax rolled his eyes slightly and nodded for him to sit, and Juice chuckled with a smirk.

"I think you should thank my wife for bringin' you back a Christmas present. You've been playin' with it a lot lately," Juice prodded, eliciting a less than friendly gesture consisting of a single finger from Happy.

Hap had been occupied during the week after Christmas helping Wenya get settled into Charming. Sometimes, very loudly. Sometimes, in his dorm at the clubhouse. Sometimes, in the garage at TM. Nero assured, however, that whatever was going on, Wenya certainly wasn't accepting payment for it the way she was with her new clients at Diosa. Since it seemed to be doing no harm, they simply let Hap enjoy his new playmate while they still found one another interesting.

"Like I was saying," Jax said in slightly annoyance. "We need to make a decisive move before Marks and the Chinese creep in too close to our territory. That's why I'm puttin' it out to the table. All in favor of making our move by... by attackin' the lounges? Hittin' Lin Kwan with our full force?"

Everyone at the table glanced around, and Jax glanced at Happy to cast the first vote.

"Yea," he said flatly, and there was a flurry of glances shared, filled with the suspicion that his new friend had something to do with it.

Tig scratched at his nose slightly, and answered "Yea," as well. He next looked to Juice, who had with hands folded in front of his face.

"Nay."

"Nay."

He looked up and saw that Chibs immediately had echoed his sentiment. Bobby glanced around now, first at Jax, who looked at him expectantly, then at the others. "Nay," he said, shaking his head.

Rat and Quinn each voted differently, and didn't affect the outcome - Jax's motion to attack didn't pass.

* * *

><p>"Tell Juice this is the last time I come to you for advice, I promise."<p>

"I don't mind," Denise shrugged as she sat out on the porch with Jax, with Denise drinking a bottled water and Jax drinking a beer. Jax chuckled, shaking his head.

"Your husband's gonna go full metal jacket on me next time I bring you into club business. And I'd have no choice but to let 'im," he smirked. "I promised I was done doin' this before - before -"

Denise cleared her throat and nodded, cutting Jax off for her own sake just as much as his. They'd gone this long without really talking about what Gemma had done and the turmoil that had ensued as a result. They didn't need to start now. "Well, shoot, Prez," she said casually, not truly believing this was the last time he was going to try and bounce an idea off of her.

"The table voted down the motion - about attacking the nightclubs," Jax said, shaking his head. "That was all I had, Dee. I don't know how else to stop Marks and your brother from closin' in on us. I don't got anythin' else," he shrugged hopelessly.

Jax found it unsettling when Denise didn't speak up with a suggestion right away - he'd grown so accustomed to her speaking up and wiping problems away as though they were easy, because she had an outsider perspective on things. The fact that she couldn't manage it this time felt like a punch in the gut, and he took a swig from his beer to quell the sensation.

"We're fucked," he laughed coldly, scratching the back of his neck. "We don't got anythin' to fight back with -"

"Just because you can't pull out all the stops and blow shit up doesn't mean you have nothing," Denise corrected, raising any eyebrow. "Don't you guys have that rule? That one about the brains -"

"Brains before bullets," Jax nodded, his tongue mulling over the words almost as though they were a foreign language to him - they might as well have been now, with everything they had done. He exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. "You know, I finally realized - the problem with that rule is that I'd run outta brains long before I run outta bullets."

"Did you ever think of trying to fight back... I don't know, differently?" Denise asked. For a moment, there was something in her voice - a brightness and an innocence that made her sound like the Denise he had first met over a year ago, who had offered herself a repayment of Juice's debts to the club, a strange mix of shrewdness and innocence. Jax, however, couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion.

"Dee, I'm gonna tell you what I told Tara a long time ago," he said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. "I'm an okay mechanic with a GED -"

"You're a president," Denise interrupted, holding up her index finger to silence him. "And running in guns-a-blazing isn't what presidents do. You use your connections. Your pull. You use the people."

"That's all well and good, Dee, but we need something we can use."

"Marks knows how to handle outlaws by now," Denise said in slight exasperation. "He's been playin' your game for years, he knows how it works. He can call your moves and retaliate before you're even done making them, because he's seen it before. There are only so many ways to shoot a man or set a building on fire. But you know why he's never been able to own Oakland like he owns the small towns?"

"Too expensive?"

"The city's a different kind of place," Denise continued, undistracted by Jax's comment. "The shit people do out there? The TV crews, the protesting? They take those crowds and that publicity, and they leverage it. They use it," Denise said. "If you can get that kind of pull, if you can draw down attention from people like that down here to Charming, you can at least buy time - put up a roadbloack in Marks's way," Denise suggested.

Jax mulled it over - the idea of handling things Denise's way, of handling it the same way that city slickers did, for whatever reason did not sit well with him. The Sons of Anarchy had never played the game that way. At first, the biggest worry for him was that this was even further from the road his father had initially wanted for SAMCRO. But as he mulled it over and Denise awaited his answer, he realized that between Marks and going legit, Marks was the greater oppressor. The town of Charming would lose more of its freedom once Marks rolled through. JT would have chosen the same, Jax decided.

"Gemma used to - she used to have this carnival every year. Everyone in town would come out," Jax said, very stiffly brushing over his mother's name out of necessity. If we could pull somethin' off like that, do you know people?"

"Yeah," Denise said with a small laugh. "I know people."

In particular, Denise had a few friends from her life before SAMCRO - very few. Among them, however, was a likeable blonde girl who had practically befriended Denise by force. Melissa, whom Denise had kept in touch with at least minimally since she'd left Stockton, was now one of the most well-liked interns at the local news station, and apparently, based on their last conversation, engaged to another old friend.

So, when Denise pitched the idea to Juice that they should get away from Charming for at least a day or two and spend a little time in Stockton to visit Melissa, his response came in two waves.

Juice had always been fond of Melissa - the woman was kind, and had been, admittedly, a huge driving force in pushing Denise closer to him. It had been at Melissa's party at the bar where they'd first kissed by accident, and by Melissa's prodding that Denise had brought him out of the house to begin with. She was sweet, even if a little naive, and Juice found her refreshing to be around.

The second wave of his response, however, came when he found out that Melissa was now engaged to Denise's old friend, Harvey, whom Juice still harbored an unfulfilled desire to punch in the throat a few times. The occasional spilled drink and copped feel would have been enough to set Juice on a quest to defend Denise's honor, but the fact that Harvey had ratted on Denise to her brother and told them man that she was getting married caused even the mention of his name to set off lights and sirens in Juice's mind.

Eventually, however, Juice conceded. Stockton, shitty place that it was, held some good memories for him even if solely for the fact that it was the place that he'd met the woman he loved more than anyone. He groused a bit at the fact that they were going because it was for some plan that Denise had hatched with Jax, but Juice also realized that sometimes, it was better not to stand in their way. It was personal for Denise now too. It was about family, as much as Denise tried to deny that she still looked at her brother as such.

The thing that mattered most to Juice was that at least for a few days, they were getting out of Charming, away from the club - it seemed childish, no matter how he phrased it, but there were times he just wanted his wife and daughter to himself. He wanted them to not belong to anyone else - and as much as he aprreciated the love and support from Jax and his boys, from Lyla and Wendy, from the club, he realized that there were some parts of his life he didn't necessarily need them in on; they didn't need to have their hands in this cookie jar.

Happy, being assigned to escort them safely out of town and into Stockton, watched on silently as the Ortiz family loaded into the car with a few days' worth of things. Seeing Happy on his bike in the rearview mirror the entire drive to Stockton was strangely comforting for Juice, who was behind the wheel of Denise's car while she sat in the back with Sofia, buckled in and sleeping cozily in her carseat. Finally, when the car pulled up at the old townhouse, which had over the course of the past year been cleaned up after being ransacked by Henry Lin when Denise had first disappeared, Juice rolled down his window just as Happy pulled up in the driveway next to home.

"Check in on my place once in a while, aight brotha'?" Juice said, pulling the spare house key off of his key ring and tossing it out the window. Happy caught it and gave a curt nod, tucking it into his own pocket before getting up to help bring their bags in. He said his goodbyes, giving both Denise and Sofia a kiss on the side of the head - Juice always found the softness that Happy was capable of with certain people such an interesting contrast from what he actually did day to day.

"Drive safe, Hap," Denise said, giving the larger man a one-armed hug, to which he simply chuckled in response before heading out the door and driving off.

Happy wasn't particularly cool with the idea of leaving the Ortiz family on their own in Stockton - Juice had earned his stripes, sure, but he was still wary of the man's ability to defend his family on his own. Happy had grown admittedly pretty fond of Denise and Sofia, having stuck with Jax and SAMCRO when SAMBAY broke off - Denise, though perhaps with Gemma over her shoulder at every move, had been somewhat of a matriarch from afar, and contrasted with her baby daughter's softness and delicateness, they seemed to set off the protective nature in everyone, Happy included.

However, knowing that Denise would never put up with the idea of being thought incapable or weak or needy - the things she hated most, Happy knew - he let it be. What else could you do?

He rode back into Charming and found that leaving them on their own left him feeling much more tense than he had expected - he could probably use a good distraction, he decided. So, rather than checking in right away at the clubhouse or making sure the Ortiz house was locked up, he instead made a beeline for Diosa.

Admittedly, Wenya was good at what she did. Very good. She had a roughness about her that Denise didn't, which was probably what made them very different in his mind - Denise was the kind of girl people wanted to protect. Wenya was the girl you wanted to do other things to. Happy recounted a few of those things with a small smirk as he got off of his bike and walked through back doors at Diosa with every intention of ticking a few more off the list.

He pushed open Wenya's door however, and was immediately met with the sound of a thud, followed by Wenya's high voice - and another, lower, equally familiar voice - letting out a surprised string of curses.

"Flick."

Happy's voice was flat in tone while the prospect stared up at him in terror, clad only in his boxers, having fallen on the floor when he was pushed from his position on top of Wenya in bed. Wenya stared at Happy as well, and while he was expressionless, the look on her face was harsh, almost defiant. They stared at one another for a few intense moments, while Flick remained on the floor practically sweating bullets until Happy's gaze settled on him.

"Hurry up and get back to work. Prospect," he said, practically spitting out the last word before exiting, slamming the door behind him and leaving back in the direction of the clubhouse.

Croweater pussy would do just fine.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Sorry for the delay in chapters! Holidays are always hectic, but things are slowly settling. Hope you guys all had a wonderful Christmas, by the way, and I hope your New Year is equally wonderful if I don't manage to get you all another update before then. As always, I appreciate all of your feedback and messages, they make my day brighter! Until next time, cheers!_


	21. Chapter 21

"In Stockton, you say? For how long?"

August Marks found that in addition to having Gemma Teller at his disposal, the task of gathering intelligence on SAMCRO's plans was further aided by the presence of a convenient informant. A rat, they called this sort. But to August Marks, a rat was in many ways perhaps the most useful tool of them all.

"The Ortiz family has been very busy indeed lately," Marks chuckled into the phone. "Thank you. You may go."

He hung up the phone and found Gemma sitting quietly in a chair in the room, staring at him, with Jarry standing like a guard dog in front of the door, as though after this long, she still thought the former SAMCRO matriarch would try to make a break for it. Marks let the sheriff be - in order to remain useful, she had to at least carry on a charade of actually being useful.

"You're not going after them, are you?" Gemma asked.

"Do I have a reason to?"

"No," Gemma replied quickly, her expression stiffening - there was a part of her, whether she had the right or not, that felt a strange sort of protectiveness over the young woman she had spent so much time with. Perhaps it wasn't love, perhaps it was practically a sense of ownership, the idea that Denise was hers just like Jax and the boys were hers. But whatever Gemma had done, she didn't want the girl to fall into Marks's hands. "She won't get in your way. She just wants - to get away from all of this with her family. Juice too," Gemma said. At this, Jarry let out a slightly derisive snort, which Gemma by now had learned to ignore.

"I thought as much," Marks said, straightening his tie and stalking ominously towards Gemma with a smirk on his face. "I won't lie - getting my hands on the Kwan money would be a boon, no doubt. But so long as she doesn't cast her lot in with Jackson, she's not my concern. I won't go out of my way for that little cunt."

"Deedee won't throw that money around for the club," Gemma insisted - she had to remind herself inwardly that she had no reason to feel anger on Denise's behalf. How could she fault Marks for calling her even something that foul, when she herself had made an attempt on the girl's life? "Even if I tried to make her, she won't."

"We'll see, then," Marks said, smirking even more widely before looking up and nodding for Jarry to open the door to allow him to exit. Gemma, however, got to her feet as Marks was starting to walk away and spoke up.

"Who's the rat?" she asked. "Is it someone in the club?"

August Marks paused, turning back and stalking back over so he practically hovered over Gemma, staring at her with fierce intensity before finally shooting her a cold, eerie grin. "A man has to have his secrets," he supplied before walking away with Jarry shutting the door behind him. Gemma seethed with disappointment in not knowing what was happening in the club, and she sneered as she sat back down before locking eyes with Jarry, who was making her way back to the kitchen area of the suite.

"Alone again, Sheriff," Gemma smirked snidely, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, slightly swinging one foot nonchalantly. "You sure you don't wanna play a game of cards? Do each others nails?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Raincheck then, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe this is her!" Melissa said, holding baby Sofia in her arms while Denise seemed to be enjoying a glass of champagne more than she'd ever enjoyed champagne before - she was never the type, but this was her first drink of alcohol since she'd gotten off of the pain medicines for her physical therapy, and damned if she wasn't going to enjoy it. "I can't believe you're a mom now! But - you two," Melissa smirked, looking back and forth between Denise and Juice, who seemed pretty cozy on the couch, having been invited over for New Year's Eve. "I told you he was gonna be good for you."<p>

"Yeah, you did," Denise laughed tinnily, her eyes squinting with mirth.

"I just can't believe how crazy your life has been," the blonde woman spoke up honestly. "I mean, I probably don't know the first thing about it. But - all these gangs and guns and you almost dying. Man," she said, shaking her head incredulously while still bouncing Sofia. "But I guess you've always been tough like that. How are you feeling lately?"

"Better. Just stopped taking those pain pills, legs stopped spasming and giving out finally," Denise said with a sigh of relief. "But still lots of headaches. Lots of them," she emphasized with a grimace. Juie looked at her with a slight frown - she never said anything about headaches or spasms. There were some days she stayed in bed a little longer than usual, but she never complained about a thing. Juice felt his stomach sink slightly, feeling that perhaps he should have picked up on it, perhaps he should have done better.

He'd been feeling that way a lot lately, and he hated it.

It was still early in the evening, and while Juice was very much relieved that poor Harvey had to work tonight and couldn't be home for the celebration, it also meant that he was stuck for hours listening to girls talk - and talking to other women was something which Denise had indeed improved at immensely, owed in no small part to Lyla and, to a lesser extent, Wendy.

"Oh, God," Denise laughed, covering her eyes as Melissa brought out her laptop and began clicking through a folder of old photos, some of which were from what felt like a lifetime ago, when Juice and Denise had first become a thing, and even during study sessions at Denise's house, could barely be pried off of one another.

"You two were so adorable," Melissa laughed, tapping her finger on the screen to draw their attention to a photo of Denise wearing one of Juice's hoodies, and the cotton shorts he seemed to favor so much, sitting curled on his lap on the sofa while reading from her physics textbook. "Look at that."

Juice couldn't help but laugh, bouncing his daughter on his lap and cooing to her to look at the picture of mommy and daddy - admittedly, he missed those times back at the house when they had it all to themselves, before Denise had come to Charming and become Aunt Deedee, or mami, or anything else but his Denise. His Dee. Now, he suddenly felt very excited for the ball to drop, and to be able to go home and have time with his wife and daughter - no SAMCRO. No Jax. Just his two most beloved people at the start of the new year.

"Hey - Denise, do you think you could help me pull the quiches out of the oven?" Melissa spoke up suddenly. The two women's eyes met in a way that only happens when two people were about to talk about something they didn't want heard, and Juice, as distracted as he was by the photo and by his daughter, didn't miss the glance as the two women got up to talk in the kitchen. He knew what this was about, of course. It was the whole reason they had come out to Stockton in the first place. But it didn't mean he had to like it.

Melissa waited until they were well into the kitchen, away from the living room, before she rounded on Denise and was only a few steps in front of her before speaking up in a quiet voice.

"So what can I do to help you?" Melissa asked, her brow furrowing slightly. "Denise, this is huge - and honestly, I'd love to do a story on it, it could be amazing. A bunch of underdogs taking on corporate America - people eat that stuff up," she said with a shrug. "But if this Marks guy is as dangerous as you say he is -"

"I know," Denise interrupted with a nod. "I know I'm getting myself into a lot of trouble with this. And I know Juice hates it," she admitted. "We're just - I mean, not we." Denise's eyes widened slightly at the slight slip. "Jax and the club, they need this. They're running out of other options," Denise corrected. "We need - you know, cameras. Video. I can take photos, but I need to make sure they get seen."

"And I can do that. All you have to do is say the word," Melissa nodded. "But - look, I know you and me, we never see each other anymore. We talk maybe once a month on the phone and we disappear out of each other's lives again. But I'm worried about you. All this stuff, it's dangerous. And if your husband isn't good with it -"

"He understands, though," Denise insisted. "Juice gets it. He's in the club, he knows that sometimes it just... it takes over. It brings people into your life that complicate everything. You just need to handle your business," Denise finished, crossing her arms over herself. Melissa sighed a bit and gave her friend a sad smile.

"Anything I can do to help out," she nodded. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

* * *

><p>"Five!"<p>

"You gotta make a wish, baby!" Denise said to Juice with a broad grin while she held Sofia tightly. Her face was flushed brightly from having polished off a second glass of champagne.

"Four!"

"Alright, alright!" Juice laughed. "I wish for -"

"You can't tell us what your wish is, or it won't come true!" Melissa interrupted.

"Three! Two! One!"

"Happy New Year!"

Just before the stroke of midnight, Melissa had scooped baby Sofia out of her mother's arms so she could place a swift peck on the small girl's forehead right as the clock struck twelve and the television set glowed with the sight of the ball dropping in New York.

As Juice grabbed a gentle hold of his wife's wrist and tugged her over to kiss her as the ball dropped too, he realized that he knew exactly what his wish was - he wanted to have her and baby Sofia to himself one day. No more club business, no more being dragged through quicksand trying to solve problems that weren't theirs.

"One day, I'll take you and baby Fifi back to New York," he spoke up with a smile, his eyes plactically glowing as he stared at the sight of the happy, albeit chilly crowd in Times Square on the TV. "We'll watch the ball drop for real."

"I... I'd like that," Denise said with a lopsided grin. And at this, Juice couldn't help but smile like a complete idiot. She'd like that. She'd like to get halfway across the world from Charming and ring in a New Year thousands of miles away from all of this. It was going to happen eventually. He'd get it. He knew he had to.

After the festivities had wrapped up and Sofia was pretty much out cold, the small Ortiz family had said goodbye to Melissa and started on their way back home, with Juice driving them back up the familiar streets of Stockton as though they had never left. Maybe, he pondered, it wouldn't be entirely too bad just going completely legit, having a calm, quiet life. He'd drop Sofia off at ballet - or soccer, or football, or karate, because his little girl wasn't going to have her hobbies dictated by gender norms, he decided - in a dinky Honda minivan, he'd talk to other dads at school about how his Odyssey had decent pickup for a family vehicle. He'd grow his hair out over his tattoos and no one would know that he was Juice. He'd go by Juan Carlos, and no one would be any the wiser.

He reached out with one hand to give Denise's hand a squeeze while she sat sleepily in the passenger seat of the car, and she gave a small yawn, opening her eyes to look at him. Grinning but not taking his eyes off of the road, Juice raised her hand closer to his lips and brushed a kis across the back of her knuckles.

"Happy New Year, baby," he smiled gently.

They finally pulled in front of the house, and Denise hurried out first while fidgeting around in her pockets to grab her keys to open the door - but she quickly realized that it was already unlocked. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and because Juice had seen her freeze in place, he stopped in the middle of removing their sleeping daughter from her carseat. His expression hardened, and he nodded for Denise to come back and stay by the car with the baby, while he reached under the driver's seat, where he'd hidden his gun. Denise hurried back to pick up Sofia from the carseat and hold her protectively, while Juice stalked towards the unlocked door, his gun raised. He reached out to turn the doorknob, gently kicking the door open with the tip of his shoe so it gave a slow creak.

"Who's there?" he barked into the doorway, now aiming his gun forward, steading with both hands. If someone thought they were going to come in here and threaten hiss family, break into their home, they had another thing coming - a few things, all of which were loaded into the barrel of his gun. "Come out where I can see you, motherf-"

But Juice froze midsentence when the living room light came on, and he immediately caught sight of the figure standing there inside, staring right at him...

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And - you get to find out who's in the living room and what their intentions are in 2015! I'll take any guesses you have as to who's there and why._

_Anyway, I'm glad that you're all still here, reading and reviewing! The holidays, as I've been saying, have been a very hectic time, so my updates have been much slower, but I'm glad that you all are still so patient with me and give me such amazing, useful feedback. I love hearing from all of you! And of course, I hope you all have a happy, safe new year! Until next time and next year, cheers!_


	22. Chapter 22

"Put the gun down, Juice -"

"Get outta my house, Sheriff."

Denise's ears might as well have perked up like a dog's when she heard Juice speak - Althea Jarry had gotten into their house, but judging by the fact that Juice slightly lowered his gun, it seemed she was unarmed and at leats for the most part, unthreatening.

"Just - hear me out," Jarry said, stepping forward into the light so that Denise could now see her in the window. The woman seemed a mere shadow of her real self, looking extremely thin and tired with bags under her eyes. "I just want to know if he's - how's he's -"

It took only a small amount of time to realize that she was asking about Chibs, and while Denise very nearly felt some amount of sympathy for the woman, it only pushed Juice to raise his gun again in anger that she thought she had a right at all to ask about him, to even think about him.

"It's none of your business how he's doin' - if you gave a fuck about him, my wife wouldn't have had to bail him outta jail -"

"That wasn't my fault, Juice," Jarry insisted. "I didn't know it was gonna play out like that -"

"So you were just enjoyin' the ride? Enjoyin' bein' the Big Bad Sheriff in town and his ol' lady too?" Juice gave a humorless bark of a laugh. "Fresh, Sheriff. Real fresh - but see, you got no place here. So get the fuck away from me and my family -"

"Juice, please -"

"Out!" Juice had already lurched forward and grabbed Jarry by the arm, shoving her out of the house so that she tripped over her own feet onto the grass outside - Denise couldn't help but think that she looked uncharacteristically weak, unusually pathetic. This wasn't the Althea Jarry they knew. Juice glanced over at his wife and daughter, and Denise began hurrying over, trying as best as she could to avoid eye contact with the woman on the ground. However, just as Juice was rushing to usher his family inside and shut the door on Jarry, she held up her hand and cried out.

"I have - I have information," she said, her eyes wide and frantic. "There's a rat in SAMCRO. Someone on the inside feeding information to Marks and your wife's brother -"

"Leave." Juice said before his jaw clenched shut, and it was clear that information or no information, he was beginning to lose it. Jarry looked almost on the verge of tears, but she got back to her feet and departed, looking more defeated than they had ever seen her.

Even after she had gone, however, something about Juice remained off. He paced across the floor, glancing repeatedly out the window as though afraid someone else was going to show up at their door. Gone was the hopeful, jovial Juice of just minutes ago, the sight of him like this, nearly unhinged, left Denise feeling incredibly uneasy.

"W-what if she's telling the truth?" Denise asked carefully, rocking Sofia back to sleep as she had stirred slightly in the ruckus. "Should we tell them -"

"We're not callin' them. We're not cuttin' our trip short for club shit," Juice snarled angrily, his face deeply creased and his eyes narrowed. It frustrated him to no end that Denise didn't seem to get it - he was sick and tired of having the club need to come before his family, of having to practically share his family with them. Once upon a time, sure, the club was his everything - but now it wasn't. It was poison and, toxic sludged that it was, continued to pollute every good thing, every happy moment. But he couldn't leave. His breaths were rapid and shallow, and his pacing grew more erratic as he realized he could barely even think straight. There were too many thoughts in his head - bad thoughts - that seemed to collide and cut each other off in his mind until it was all a jumbled mess.

It was too much. Without another word, he threw his hands up and stormed out of the house, leaving a sleeping daughter and a very confused wife.

Denise knew this was difficult for him - she knew that he was reaching the end of his rope when it came to the club interfering in his daily life. But she had never seen him like this - at least, not for a very long time. He hadn't lost it and walked out like this in a long time, and he certainly hadn't been this distraught. He had never walked out on her like this since - since the one time, and that had ended poorly. It had ended with Denise in a ditch on the side of the road.

She knew Juice well enough by now to realize that he wasn't thinking clearly, that he was lost right now. But she couldn't laod their daughter into a car and drive around Stockton alone in the middle of the night trying to find him. The anxiety and the stress continued to build over the next hour, first as a stiffness in her neck, then a dull ache in the front of her head. But, thankfully after was already asleep in her baby carrier, it hit almost like a train. The pain in her head was intense, almost like a violent, white heat that left her curled into a ball on the couch, clutching her head nearly in tears.

Denise struggled to reach across the couch to grab her bag, only to realize that she hadn't brought her medicine for the headaches. Instead, she fished out her phone and attempted to dial Juice's number. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. By now, the pain was so excruciating that she was legitimately crying, though being as silent as possible to keep from waking her daughter. In her desperation instead, she dialed the only other number that she could think of with her mind so hazy from the pain. It rang once before the voice on the other end answered.

"Deedee?"

"Jax, I need help," she sobbed quietly into the phone. "It hurts - it hurts so bad -"

"Denise, what's going on?" Jax demanded. "Where's Juice? What's happenin'? Jesus Christ..." he muttered when no answer came from Denise, only unintelligible sobbing. "I'll grab a couple of the guys and we're gonna come and help you, aight? Just hang on..."

* * *

><p>It took Juice nearly three hours to realize that it was New Year's Day, and he had just walked out on his family. He had been wandering around the city and had ended up near the Amtrak station on foot before realizing what he'd done, where he was. He reached into his phone and realized that Denise had been calling him too - she must have been worried sick.<p>

Juice felt quickly ashamed that he'd put his wife through that, on a day that had started out so amazing. Just a few hours ago, they'd been happy. They'd been talking about the new life they were going to have, and what it would be like to get away from Charming for good. And then, Jarry had shown up at their door and everything had gone to shit. He shook his head as he made his way back home. It wasn't her fault, and he'd still snapped at her. It just meant the world to him to have this short few days away from the club, yet it followed him everywhere like Death.

He froze in his tracks when he turned the corner of the street of the house and realized that in addition to their car, there were three bikes outside. Juice's heart sank when he realized that she had called them when she'd been unable to reach him. He practically sprinted the rest of the way down the street and ran in the front door to see Jax standing on the couch where Denise had fallen asleep, Happy holding Sofia, and Tig standing at the door.

"What happened?" Juice snapped, walking over with a suspicious expression. "What are you all -"

"The headaches came back - she needed the meds. She was fuckin' hysterical," Jax explained, and the knife that Juice felt had been plunged into his gut twisted in a little deeper. "She's been out cold for about an hour now -"

"Jesus," Juice said, swiping his hand over his mouth in frustration. The headaches came back. Everyone knew about these fuckin headaches except for him - he thought she was doing fine. He thought she was just tired out from physical therapy, but she had never said a word about pain - now, he was the screw up again. He was out of the loop. She stirred slightly, and her eyes opened with slight struggle against the bright light in the living room. Juice hurried over and knelt on the floor next to the couch and swiped a hand over her forehead, brushing the hair out of her face. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry -"

"We gotta tell them," she murmured groggily, shaking her head. "We gotta tell them about what Jarry said -"

"Jarry?" Jax interrupted, his brow furrowing. "The Sheriff? She was -"

"She was here," Juice confirmed with a curt, grudging nod. "Broke in, she was waiting for us when we got back. Said someone was... was feedin' Marks information on SAMCRO from the inside. She's workin' with him now, that's how she knew where we'd be."

A silence fell over the room, and a few troubled glances were shared - the idea of a rat among them was, admittedly, the worst thing that could possibly come right now when they were barely on their feet enough as a charter to figure out how to handle Marks at all.

"Fuck," Tig sneered, and for once, Denise didn't have the wherewithal to chide anyone for their language in front of Sofia. "It was that girl. That chink bitch -"

"What?"

"Not you, sweetheart," Tig snickered at Denise's brief interruption - she had forced her eyes open and managed an extremely annoyed expression, despite the pain she was in. "The one from the club. Happy's Christmas present."

At this, it was now Happy whose expression grew stern and alert, something which Denise picked up on, even in her current state. But, as always, he said nothing. Instead, they all looked to Jax to wait for his appraisal of the accusation.

"Makes sense," he said sternly. "Might've been a set up, the whole damsel in distress act. We'll go talk to her. I'll call Nero up -"

"I want to come."

Denise forced herself to sit up, and Juice let out an exasperated groan at the proposition, knowing that if Denise said it, she would argue tirelessly until everyone agreed. That, too, was likely a skill that Gemma had helped her to hone in their year out in the cabin.

"Alright," Jax said, throwing his hands up slightly. "We'll head out first, talk to Nero about this shit. You guys meet us at Diosa and we'll talk to Wenya together. We get to the bottom of this."

* * *

><p>Juice did not want to be making this drive back to Charming already at five in the morning on New Years Day, and it was obvious in how silent the drive was. Denise was slowly starting to feel more oriented, her head less painful. When she was finally sitting up straight and keeping her eyes open properly, Juice cleared his throat.<p>

"You never told me about the headaches."

"What?"

"Everybody else knew, and I just heard about it last night because you were telling Melissa," Juice said flatly, shaking his head. "Baby - shouldn't I be the one to know what you're goin' through? Shouldn't it be me?"

"I don't want you to worry about me -"

"Well, tough tits, babe - because you're my wife and when I need to worry about you, I'm gonna f-u-c-k-in' worry about you."

"I'm sorry," Denise said in a small voice. "I just - I hate this. I hate still being in pain and always being tired," she admitted. "It's easier for me not to tell you because then, at least you treat me a little bit normal."

That was the last word spoken for the rest of the drive- Juice didn't know how he was supposed to react. On one hand, he understood his wife well enough to know how much it meant to her to get back to normal, but at the same time, how was he supposed to not be worried? How was he supposed to be level-headed? The feeling of being stuck, of being inadequate, was one he had hoped to never feel again - and it kept coming back. Nothing he tried to do, no matter how good his intentions were, was right.

They pulled up in the back lot at Diosa to find that the bikes had already arrived - at least, two of them. Only Happy and Jax had shown up.

"I'll stay in here with Fifi," Juice said - the words were like acid in his mouth, but he thought it might provide Denise some satisfaction, some peace that he was letting her do what she needed to do. "Be careful in there."

Denise smiled weakly and leaned over to place a lingering kiss on his cheek before stepping out of the passenger side door and heading inside the back door, where she found Jax, Happy, and Nero already waiting.

"You ready to head in?" Jax asked. Denise nodded, and Nero guided them down the hallway to the room where he'd set Wenya up to stay. He insisted on opening the door, purposely giving the hinge a loud creak to stir Wenya from her sleep. Clad in a skimpy tanktop, she sat bolt upright quickly, pulling the covers over herself to cover up.

"What are you-"

"We heard that we might have a pest problem in SAMCRO," Jax said in a flat tone, raising his eyebrows seriously, and for a moment, Denise felt genuine fear for the woman, in the event that she was the rat - and it certainly wasn't looking good. Wenya hesitantly got out of bed and stood aside, while Happy and Jax began rifling through her things. Denise noticed, however, that Wenya didn't run. If she was afraid, if she thought she had anything to hide, she would have been running.

"Jax."

Nero had started moving around the room in no particular path, glancing over it, when he realized that there was something under the bed - a burner. Jax nodded for Nero to toss the old flip phone to Denise, who caught it and began turning it over in her hands. On a whim, she pulled off the back cover and revealed the battery inside, with a label indicated that it came from Marks Incorporated. Denise slowly held it up for Jax to see, and Wenya glanced over as well, her face morphing into an expression of fear and shock.

"No," she said breathlessly, feeling the heat of Jax's gaze on her. "No, it wasn't me, I swear. I'm not telling them anything, it's not mine -"

"Who's the last guy you brought in here?"

Everyone turned to face Happy when he was the first person to speak up in response to discovery, looking Wenya dead straight in the eye as he asked. She looked at him with a mix of defiance and terror, drawing a shuddering breath before replying.

"I don't bring guys back here -"

"Don't lie," Happy said calmly - no imminent threat, just harsh coldness. "Who have you brought back here?"

"I don't bring guys back here - this is my - my personal space," Wenya said, holding her head up high. "When I do business, it's either out on the club floor, or somewhere neutral -"

"So just me and him."

Jax immediately looked over to Denise, who for once was completely out of the loop as well as to what was going on. She shrugged and shook her head, while Wenya took a few heaving breaths. Happy, however, was piecing things together. When he'd walked in on them, he'd been right on the floor right there where they'd found the phone. If it had been on him, that was all the proof they needed. He'd seen the guy fall to the floor, right there.

"Yeah," Wenya said hesitantly. "He was the only other one. It was - it was just that one time. I only fucked him one time -"

"I don't give a fuck," Happy said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell Jax whose phone this is."

Wenya turned slowly to face the SAMCRO president, who stared at her with intense questioning in his eyes as she slowly opened her mouth to speak. "It's Flick. Flick brought that thing in here."

At this, Denise let out an audible gasp, and Happy dropped his chin almost in a nodding gesture, his eyes moving down to the floor and away from Wenya, finally. It was now that something in Denise realized that, as impossible as it seemed, something had happened - something that had actually bothered the Tacoma Killa. Something had started growing between him and Wenya that was more than just fucking. But there was no time to think about that now.

"Nero," Jax said, drawing himself up with strong resolution. "Bring the girls out, keep them company out at Deedee and Juice's place. "Tell Juice he needs to haul ass to chapel. We got a vote to take -"

"What are you gonna do?" Denise interrupted suddenly, backing away a few steps so that she was just outside of the room. "Jax - what if -"

"We have rules about what happens to people who betray the club," Jax said calmly. "We take a vote -"

"Jax, you can't -"

"What are you talking about?" Wenya piped in, feeding off of the evident fear in Denise's voice. "What's going to -"

"Whatever happens to the guy, the blood isn't on either of your hands," Jax said, walking over. He leaned over and kissed Denise's forehead first, then Wenya's, before nodding to Nero to take them back outside. When it was just Jax and Happy hanging back, Jax looked over at the larger man and cleared his throat.

"I want you to find Flick. Put him somewhere where he can't run until the club decides what happens to him," Jax explained. There was a strange glimmer of satisfaction in Happy's eyes that made Jax, too, realize that there was something personal about it this time.

When the girls got back outside, however, Denise ran back over to the car, and upon seeing her panicked expression, Juice got out of the driver's seat, standing up to meet her and place hi hands on her shoulders bracingly. "Flick was the rat," she said in a quiet voice. "Jax wants a vote -"

"Your prez needs you, mano," Nero interrupted, placing a hand on Denise's shoulder and gently pulling her backwards away from her husband, who shook his head slightly, still attempting to process the new information. The New Year was just falling apart so quickly, and he could barely keep up. "I'll watch your girls - I'm bringin' 'em home. Wenya's coming too."

Juice glanced over at Wenya and, at least for the moment, felt an intense sense of dislike for the woman. She wasn't a good person like Denise. She'd been nothing but trouble. But if Jax made the call that she was supposed to wait with Denise while the vote came down, there was nothing he could do. He nodded, and leaned over, kissing his wife on the forehead.

"Everything'll be okay, baby," he said, but the expression on Denise's face, the sense of alarm that came with realizing that this was how the club operated, and this was the life she was stuck in, was still clearly winning out. She could never believe him right now. Juice looked over at Nero and nodded. "It's been a long night," he said strongly. "Make sure my girls get some rest."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Well, first of all, Happy New Year! I decided that I wanted to post this chapter already because it occurs on New Year's Day, so it was the waste of a good opportunity to have the dates in the story match up with real life as I post it. So, I hurried through editing it a bit to get it out to you sooner._

_But, this is the beginning of the roller coaster ride, because Marks will not be happy with losing his informant on the inside - just remember that revenge is a dish best served cold. Now that the holidays are over, it's time for the story to start getting down to business! As always, I appreciate all of your feedback and reviews, and hope that you enjoyed this latest installment as well! Until next time, cheers!_


	23. Chapter 23

Brucey traced his finger over the "Prospect" patch on his kutte, realizing that this was the last time it was going to be sewn on. He hung back slightly from the others as they gathered outside of an old building - he remembered Juice mentioning he'd even had his wedding reception here, but now, it was going to host a very different kind of event. A different kind of event entirely.

In church today, the club had taken two votes, the first of which Brucey was sitting outside waiting for.

It had been, at least for a few brief moments, one of the best moments of his life when they said they'd all voted for him to become a fully patched member of the club - the elation was quickly shattered, however, when he proceeded to ask if they had voted on Flick as well. Flick, after all, had become a brother to him as well in the process of prospecting for SAMCRO. Jax nodded for Brucey to take a seat at the table before speaking again.

"That was why we wanted you to be a fully-patched, votin' member," Jax began delicately. "Because Flick is your boy and you deserve a say in what happens next."

Jax explained what they'd found out, going through the burner left in Wenya's room - the texts only confirmed that it did indeed belong to Flick, and that he'd gotten it at some point from August Marks. He had been relaying secrets about the club - about them having Wenya, about the club's day-to-day operations. Even hooking up with Wenya had been for Marks, in attempts to see what she might reveal after having gotten so close to Happy.

Brucey almost couldn't believe himself, voting the way he did. It felt bad. It made him question how much he could stand, being a part of this club - but it was too late to change his mind now. After this job was done, he'd swap out his patches. He'd no longer be a prospect. But there was just something that felt inescapably wrong. He was supposed to go through this with Flick, and he was here instead, following the club into an old, empty building, with Happy taking the lead.

There was a wave of nausea that hit Brucey when he saw Flick, zip-tied to a chair in the middle of the empty room, his face already bruised from the struggle it must have taken for Happy to get him tied down in the first place. At first, he was slumped tiredly, but when he realized that he was no longer alone in the dark room, he looked up, clearly unsure of what to expect until he saw who was heading up the group - then he knew, his fate was nothing to look forward to.

"Hap," Flick said, his eyes wide with fear, but not with any sort of remorse whatsoever. "Happy, if this is about that Chinese bitch, it was just pussy, man. Nothin' between brothers, right?"

"My brothers are behind me," Happy said coldly, turning the blade of his knife slowly so it caught a glint of the single dim light that was on in the room. "You know what I see in front of me? A rat."

Flick let out a gasp when he saw Happy use his shoe to scoot a cardboard box forward over the ground, seeing that it was filled with different objects. The rest of the club hung back, having no intention of intervening. This was Hap's kill. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wanted this kill.

"Y-you... you don't get it, Hap," Flick stammered desperately as he quickly realized that there was no way to deny what he'd done - but explain it? Could he? He squirmed, straining against the zip ties on his wrists. "It was only gonna be a little while. It wasn't gonna be anythin' important - I never ratted on anythin' that could get us in trouble, I was gonna give the money to the club, I swear -"

"'S right. Just keep talkin', rat," Happy said calmly, crouching down and reaching into the box without looking up or acknowledging Flick's explanations. "Makes the process more interesting."

"Brucey!" Flick yelled desperately, his voice cracking as he turned to look at his friend. "Brucey, man, tell 'em! Tell 'em, I'd never -"

Juice clapped his hand on Brucey's shoulder, seeing the man's expression falter as though he was second-guessing the vote he'd cast. Brucey looked at Juice, who shook his head.

"It's already done, brotha'," he said in a low voice. "It's done."

Flick cried out piteously, tossing around violently against the bindings so that the chair he was in fell onto its side on the ground, and he squirmed and writhed as though he would be able to escape this way, but knowing he couldn't possibly do so, Happy continued preparing his tools. He pulled out a funnel and attached it to a plastic hose, sealing the connection with a strip of duct tape and allowing himself a dark chuckle.

"Fuck," Tig muttered, glancing around at the other Sons and raising his eyebrows when he spotted Happy pulling a bottle out of the box next. "This is gonna be some twisted shit."

"Coming from you?"

"Well, I didn't say anythin' was wrong with it."

By now, Happy had crouched over and grabbed Flick by the hair on the back of his head and secured the end of the hose into his mouth with more duct tape. He now stood over the younger man, whose eyes were wide with terror, and held him down with a foot atop his chest. Happy held the bottle in one hand, and they now saw that, quite appropriately, it was a bottle of rat poison. In the other hand, he held the funnel attached to the hose feeding into Flick's mouth.

"Wait."

Happy turned around, raising his eyebrows slightly when Jax spoke up. He knew better. Happy thought Jax knew better than to interrupt him when he'd already gotten into his groove. This work was a process - and there were instances that Happy enjoyed the process even more than usual. This was one of them. If Jax was about to say that he couldn't go through with it, he was going to snap. He was going to fucking snap. Flick, however, stared pleadingly at Jax, groaning and making a few unintelligible noises in his desperation.

Jax, however, simply pulled out the burner they'd found in Wenya's room and used it to snap a low-quality picture of Flick on the ground. He turned and handed the phone off to Brucey, staring the newest SAMCRO member in the eyes for a few moments. "I know you don't need to see this. Brother," he added, emphasizing the final word with every ounce of sincerity he could muster. "You and Juice ride out to the newest lounge that the Triads opened. Leave the phone with one of the girls there, make sure Charles Kwan gets the message that SAMCRO doesn't take kindly to rats."

At this, even Juice gave a slight gulp - old habits died hard, as did old fears. But when there was no pointed glance towards him, no mention of the past, Juice reached out and squeezed Brucey's shoulder firmly. "Let's get outta here. Get this shit done," he said. He practically had to shove Brucey towards the door. They got outside, and the door had just creaked shut behind them when they heard the first agonized, muffled groans and noises of pain that signaled the inevitable - Jax had finally let Happy get back to work.

Juice looked over at Brucey as they put on the fastenings of their helmets, and she realized that the younger man was shaking slightly.

"It gets... better, right?" Brucey asked, sounding almost nauseous. "Easier?"

"Never," Juice replied. He wished he could tell the guy that at some point, it paid off, or it became worth it - but it had been a long time since Juice had believed in any of that. "You just learn to stop feeling it."

But even that, Juice reprimanded himself internally after he had already said it, wasn't even remotely true.

* * *

><p>Denise had just finished putting Sofia to bed and returned out to the living room where Wenya was sitting alone - Nero had gone outside to the porch for a smoke and to keep an eye out for any of the guys finally arriving. Wenya, as it turned out, had already snooped around and gotten into the limited selection of booze in the cabinet over the stove, now taking the occasional swig straight from a bottle of Crown Royal. She certainly didn't hesitate making herself comfortable.<p>

"Why'd you do it?" Denise found herself asking suddenly, speaking to the woman for the first time that evening. Wenya paused and put the bottle down, knowing immediately what Denise meant. She gave a quiet, melancholy laugh, shaking her head. The poor thing didn't get why she'd slept with another guy. 'Because I wanted to' clearly was not an answer that she would accept.

"I'm easy," Wenya said simply. "I'm a whore, Mei. And I like what I do," she shrugged. "Because it's all I know -"

"But - you and Happy," Denise stammered, shaking her head questioningly. "He wasn't - he wasn't just a client, was he? He wasn't a paying customer."

"We had fun," Wenya said, standing up slowly and taking a few steps, pulling Nero's sweater more tightly around her shoulders. "And he - well, he's good. Really good. But one day, we're drunk out of our minds. Says that if I ever became his old lady, I could quit workin' the club floor at Diosa - work with your friend Lyla, makin' movies and shit -"

"Wenya, that's great," Denise interrupted in disbelief. "Lyla - she's amazing at what she does, I'm sure she could show you a thing or -"

"I like what I do," Wenya repeated, raising her eyebrows at Denise as though she were a small child who was misunderstanding words she'd never heard before. "I'm not you. I'm not made to have a - a husband, and a baby, and a nice little house. I'm not made for your perfect little marriage and perfect little family. None of these things are for me. This - being a hooker, givin' guys what they want - this is me. This is all I've ever done and it's all I wanna do."

Denise was struck dumb - she had never considered the possibility of simply wanting this kind of life, and even now, she couldn't say that she felt entirely convinced.

"The rules are simple in my line of work," Wenya continued, leaning over the back of the couch so she was closer to Denise. "You can have your fun. But once they start getting attached... protective... that's when you have to cut 'em loose."

"Do you like being lonely?" Denise asked suddenly, her face slightly pinched in her confusion. "I thought I did too, you know. A long time ago. It makes you feel like you're strong because you get through every day alone, and it feels good to say that you don't need anything from anyone," she said. The thought caught Wenya by surprise, as she straightened up and pulled away from Denise slightly, staring at her as though she'd grown another her. "But it's not the same as being strong. It's just being tough. Playing tough," Denise continued, shaking her head. "And tough is different from strong. Sometimes, being tough is just a different way of being scared."

The words lingered like a fog between the two women, and Wenya stared at Denise questioningly - the idea that Denise Ortiz, that Mei-mei, the girl with a hundred million dollars and a perfect little family, might have come from a life where she too knew how it felt to be alone was something that hadn't crossed Wenya's mind. Wenya had always seen Denise as delicate. Sure, she was smart, and loyal, and brave, but she was just a girl as far as Wenya knew. How, then, did she say such things as though she'd actually lived them?

"I don't need a life coach, Mei," Wenya said, sauntering back around the couch to swipe the bottle of Crown off the table again, taking a long, needy swig. "I'm fine. Just leave me be."

"But -"

"I know what this is," Wenya said sternly. "You feel bad about what's happening to Flick, so you want to make yourself feel better by saving someone else. But I don't need it, Mei. I don't."

And with that, Wenya finally tore away from the conversation to join Nero outside, leaving Denise with her thoughts. But while Denise seemed to have confused Wenya terribly, she herself had never seen anything more clearly. Wenya felt something for Happy, and it terrified her.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Well, bye-bye Flick. I had originally written a more graphic scene, but I ultimately wasn't happy with it, so I left a lot more to the imagination. Anyway, I hope you all had a wonderful New Years celebration, wherever you celebrated it! In upcoming chapters, the perfect little marriage that Wenya picked on Denise about is going to be put to the test, so stay tuned. Until next time, cheers!_


	24. Chapter 24

"How's your head?"

"It's fine."

"Fine-fine, or just... fine?"

Denise looked over at Juice from her laptop, her brow furrowing in mild annoyance. This, she realized, had been the reason she hadn't told Juice about the headaches or the pains, because she knew it would pull him into a frenzy. Denise, to be honest, couldn't quite put her finger on what she wanted from him anymore. She wanted to be taken care of, to feel safe, of course, but she didn't want to feel like she was too vulnerable or useless.

Granted, it had been a rough day so far to begin with. It had been about two in the morning when Juice and Brucey arrived back at the house - Nero had set Denise up with a blanket on the sofa where she'd fallen asleep, and she had only stirred when her husband got back home. When Juice leaned over to kiss her in greeting, she had immediately stopped him, realizing that he smelled - no, he reeked women's perfume. She pulled back with a raised eyebrow, and Juice suddenly looked like Newton discovering gravity because of an apple falling on his head.

"Jax sent me and Brucey off for a job."

"I see that," Denise said, unimpressed as she glanced toward Brucey and saw a smear of lipstick on the shirt he was wearing underneath his kutte. "It looks like he had you two working really hard -"

"It's not like that, baby," Juice said. "He just had to cozy up to the girls enough to get them to take us to a back room so we could hand off a message to -"

"To their vaginas?"

"To your brother."

Denise involuntarily let out a slow hiss, her gaze going cold at the mention of Charles - shaken back to sense, she dropped the argument and instead went silent. And now, here they were, hours later, still walking on eggshells even after Brucey, Nero, and Wenya had all left.

"Baby, come on," Juice said, walking over and crouching in front of his wife, placing a hand on her knee. "Yesterday was - it was bad. For all of us," he began tiredly. "Can today just be better?"

After a tense silence, Denise sighed and gave her husband a grudging grin - he had a way of doing this, getting her to stop being angry. At times, it frustrated her because she wanted to be the one in control of how long she was angry and who she was angry at, but at the same time, there was a sense of safety that came with knowing he could pull her back from the edge like this.

"C'mere, you idiot," she laughed, leaning over and wrapping her arms around him, burying her face tiredly into the side of his neck. Thankfully, he had already showered and no longer reeked of cheap Chinese strippers, or else it would have been war all over again. He gave a chuckle and shifted so that his forehead was resting against hers.

"Fifi's sleepin'," he pointed out with a mischievous grin, which Denise quickly mirrored.

"She'll probably be out cold for another couple hours."

"Well, I think I know exactly how we should use that time..."

Juice grinned wolfishly, looping his arms under Denise and scooping her off of the armchair she had nestled into, giving her barely enough time to put her laptop down. "Easy on the goods, Mister Ortiz," she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging gently. Juice took the opportunity now to swoop down, placing a sound kiss on his wife's lips.

Perhaps, he thought, it was a strange thing to note - but there was something about the taste of her kisses first thing in the morning, the warmth of her mouth on his, and the rich aroma of strong coffee and sugar. His first kiss with her, nearly two years ago now, had been so much different - all sweetness and cherries and wine. Now, however, just as she had grown and matured, so had her kisses, each of which he relished greatly as she peppered them down the skin of his neck while he carried her towards their room, pushing open the door and putting her down on the bed.

Juice's hands roved over her body like a blind man trying to paint a picture in his mind - it had just been so long since they'd been able to be like this. Everything had been so insane, and Denise had only just recovered some level of normalcy after Gemma's attack, that Juice almost felt like he had forgotten the way her soft, warm skin felt underneath his calloused hands. She let out a small gasp as his rough hand slid over her waist and her ribs, pulling her shirt up as they went. Juice leaned over and gently kissed and raked his teeth over the newly revealed skin. He realized quickly that Denise was wearing a bra that unhooked in the front instead of the back, and she felt his lips shift into a smirk against her skin as he undid the clasp with his tongue and teeth, pushing the garment off of her shoulders and casting it aside entirely.

"Juice -"

Denise's voice suddenly halted in a gasp when there was the sound of a knock at the front door, and she stiffened immediately. Juice, however, coaxed her gently back down to the bed.

"Let 'em knock."

He made quick work of his own shirt and claimed Denise's mouth with his own yet again, pressing his body against hers eagerly as he settled between her legs. Juice made a noise almost like a growl as he felt her heat against his as their hips ground against one another, separated only by his boxers and her panties. He groaned unintelligibly, burying his face now in the curve of her neck when she wrapped her legs around him more tightly, pressing their bodies even closer.

"Baby -"

The knocking returned, however, louder and more urgent than the first time, this time not stopping and now accompanied by a voice. Jax Teller's voice. Juice reluctnatly stopped, groaning in frustration while Denise reached over for her bra and shirt.

"Go open it," she said, clearly frustrated by the interruption as well. "I gotta get some... clothes on."

Juice grudgingly pulled on a pair of jogging pants that were set on the dressed before heading out to the living room and opening the door for Jax, who quickly understood what he had interrupted when Juice answered the door, shirtless and covered in a very light sheen of sweat.

"I need to talk to you and your wife -"

"Yeah, I figured," Juice retorted before he could help himself. He scratched the back of his neck in frustration, but invited Jax inside nonetheless, just as Denise emerged from the bedroom, red-faced and mussy-haired.

"My bad," Jax smirked upon seeing the state that the two were in, but Juice seethed internally at the fact that Jax didn't seem remorseful at all. It was trivial. They'd be able to have sex plenty of times. But right now, it felt practically unforgivable. The club had stomped all over every special moment Juice had with his wife, and the fact that he couldn't even have this gnawed at him.

"What do you need, Jax?" Denise snapped shortly.

"We need to speed up the timeline on your little project," Jax said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I got the papers started, you got your permits and shit for your little event. You get the whole park, three weeks from Saturday -"

"What?" Juice snapped, holding up his hand and stepping between Jax and his wife. "Brotha', hold on a sec. We just got rid of a rat, and you want to make my wife the center of attention? You already know -"

"No, he's right," Denise interrupted with a defeated sigh. "If - if we're gonna try and pull something off, we need to act fast, before they have a chance to come with a way to stop us. We have to -"

"Dee."

"Juice, I know what I'm doing," Denise said in exasperation. "I can protect myself, I -"

"Jax," Juice interrupted, suddenly turning away from his wife - an action that immediately had her hackles raised. "This is club shit. You can't make her -"

"No, don't talk to him. Talk to me," Denise said, reaching out and grabbing Juice by the forearm so that he was again turned to face her. The situation had now become so tense that even Jax felt uneasy, being the third wheel in the argument between Juice and Denise. "You talk to me -"

"Comin' from you?" Juice asked angrily. "After all the times you've gone over my head to him?"

"This affects me," Denise hissed adamantly. "This affects your family and I get to have a say in what we do. Didn't you say I wasn't just an ol' lady? I'm your wife. We're supposed to be partners in this."

Juice opened his mouth a few times but found no adequate response. It was true - he'd told Denise she was more than just an ol' lady, and he'd meant it. He'd meant it when he said that he didn't expect her to just put up or shut up when it came to the club's decisions - but sometimes, he just wanted her to stay out of it. Sometimes, he just wanted her to accept his protection. He exhaled through this nostrils and shifted his posture in defeat.

"I'm askin' her a favor is all," Jax said, shaking his head plaintively. "As a friend."

"Yeah," Juice said, his jaw practically locked in agitation. "Some friend." He stared Jax down for a few moments. "The boys over at Wendy's?"

"Yeah."

"Aight. I'm takin' Fifi over there then," he nodded before turning to his wife and kissing her protectively on the forehead. "I'll see you later, babe."

Once he had gotten a still-sleepy Sofia into her baby carrier and left in Denise's car, Denise set out a tired groan, slumping onto the sofa and resting her head in her hands.

"You okay?" Jax asked. Denise went still for a moment - of course she wasn't okay. The club was driving a wedge into her family. What was okay about that? What was even remotely _close_ to okay?

"I'm fine," Denise nodded, straightening up with a deep breath as though it took a show of strength to tell such a blatant lie. "I'm okay."

"Good," Jax said, taking a seat next to her. "Because we gotta get to planning. We gotta get all the dirt we can on Marks in order to make your little plan work. And - and we gotta keep all the details quiet. I don't wanna risk another leak."

"You know I don't talk to very many people -"

"Even Juice."

Denise's head snapped to attention, her brow furrowing slightly at the insinuation. Jax realized the tone he'd taken and his lip curled slightly before he swiped his hand over his mouth, shaking his head. "I just can't take any chances," he explained. "Not even with Wendy -"

"So you and Wendy?" Denise asked, raising an eyebrow. "You wanna -"

"No," Jax interrupted. "Wendy and I are... we're somethin'. But I got more important things to handle right now."

* * *

><p>"I'm just sick of it. All of it. I'm sick of the club bein' more important. I'm tired of havin' to put the club first, I'm tired of sharin' my wife with half the fuckin' town like it's her job to handle everything. I'm just sick," Juice said as he and Wendy hung back, watching the kids play in the living room. By now, Abel had taken to playing big brother to both Thomas, who was walking and talking, and Sofia, who was crawling and babbling, making it an easy job for the adults watching them. Wendy glanced over at Juice and gave a sad, lopsided grin.<p>

"Join the club."

Juice's forehead wrinkled at Wendy's response. "You - you mean, you and Jax?"

"Me and Jax what?" Wendy asked with a sarcastic, quiet laugh. "I watch Jax's kids and let him get his dick wet. I live in his house. I cook his meals," she said tiredly. "But the minute I ask him what we are, it's the same thing - I don't got time to deal with this shit right now, or we just gotta let this pass and we'll figure it out. I'm tired of waiting," she said. Juice felt himself tense slightly when he realized that she was starting to tear up, and he awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders, giving a slight squeeze.

"We all just want all this shit over," Juice shrugged. "Then I get my wife back, you get Jax back -"

"You think this is ever gonna actually be over?" Wendy asked incredulously. "Because I don't. I think if this ever gets fixed, something else'll come up. And something else, and then something else again. It's just gonna keep goin' -"

"No," Juice said adamantly. "One day, this is gonna be over. We're gonna pay our dues, iron out our issues, and it'll be over."

There was a slight faltering in the brave glint in Juice's eyes, but he quickly blinked it away and looked back at the kids playing. "How about we not talk about this, yeah?" he asked with a forced, lopsided grin. "I came here to give my daughter a playdate, so let's not make it into a grown-up bitchfest."

Wendy followed Juice over, and the pair distracted themselves for the time being with playing with the kids. Juice played catch with the boys, and Wendy brushed Sofia's wavy dark hair, putting it up into a bow. As testament to just how much they needed a break from everything, they kept on with it until late afternoon when the kids had all curled up on the sofas for a nap.

"I - I could use a drink," Wendy admitted with a laugh, shaking her head and looking upwards. "I was gonna head out for a few beers or something, Lyla offered to watch the kids. You could probably talk her into watching Fifi too - the porn star loves playing Super Mommy," she chuckled. Her laughter faded, however, as she added, "Jax and Denise are probably still working on whatever it is they do anyway."

The reminder that Jax was monopolizing Denise time, that he demanded so much of her effort and attention, was enough to get Juice's blood boiling again, and when his blood boiled, his better judgment went up in smoke.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "A couple beers sounds good."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and readers - I was away from my email for work stuff since my last update, and all the alerts in my inbox really made a long tiring day better. The next chapter should be ready soon, so keep an eye out! Until next time, cheers!_


	25. Chapter 25

It had to be something in the water in Charming. It had to be.

That was the only explanation Denise could come up with for the fact that sometimes, everyone just acted so... off. It had started, of course, when Lyla had called to see if Denise wanted to come pick up Sofia. She figured that Juice had realized that it was probably not the best idea to watch the baby, to drive around with the baby when he was pissed off out of his mind. It was nice, she decided, that he was at least conscientious about it.

But Lyla had been so jumpy, so strange about handing off the baby, as thoughsomething was wrong - and when pressed about it, she laughed nervously, saying she really had to get back to something for work. Lyla was rarely so skittish, she was likely one of the most easygoing people Denise knew, but at the moment, the greater worry was about where Juice had run off to.

Denise understood that Juice wasn't taking all of the secrecy too well - and she understood that. She knew he'd be angry about it, but she knew at the end of the day that he understood. He knew that this was all to tie up all of the loose ends with her brother and with Marks, so they could just get on with their lives.

So, when he came home a few hours later, just past midnight, and went straight for the bedroom to turn on the shower, leaving a whiff of the smell of alcohol in his wake, Denise let him be. He was upset at her, and she cut him some slack for it. Sure, she'd been waiting up for him. But this was a rough patch. Rough patches happened. The silent treatment wouldn't kill her for a few hours.

Juice, however, hadn't let his wife see the mortified expression on his face when he walked in the door. As the hot, stinging needles of water from the showerhead poured down, he slumped onto the tile shower floor, burying his head in his hands.

This was never going to happen again. This was a mistake. This was an enormous mistake. He rubbed at the tender bruise on his face and gave a quiet groan as he replayed what had happened earlier that evening.

* * *

><p><em>"What the fuck did you say about my wife?"<em>

_Juice felt his blood boil when he heard some stranger at the other end of the bar at the Hairy Dog say something - some snarky comment about 'that Juice sucker', and how his wife sure spent a lot of time with Jax Teller. Juice had previously been enjoying a couple of beers - and admittedly, a few shots - with Wendy to drink away their troubles when he'd heard it. Immediately, he leapt to his feet, tearing across the floor and grabbing the man by his collar and jamming a tightly-clenched fist right into his jaw, sending the man practically tumbling over the bar._

_The man's friend, however, took the opportunity to land a blow right back, colliding his Juice's cheekbone and stunning him slightly while he stumbled back into someone who immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him regain his footing, though it proved to be a challenge. Juice stumbled slightly, groaning and clutching his face before he was able to get back on his feet._

_"Hey, hey - listen, buddy, fuck off, alright?" Wendy said shrilly, moving in front of Juice and perching her hands on her hips. "You talk shit about a man's wife, you take your blowback like a man, you fuckin' turds. Juice, let's get outta here."_

_"I need another beer-"_

_"No, I'm gonna take you back home and get some ice on that eye before your wife wonders what the fuck kinda trouble you got into," she snapped, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out._

_Juice realized as he was sitting in the passenger seat of Wendy's car that the drinks were finally starting to hit him, and he hadn't had a single bite to eat that day since breakfast. Great. He actually let out a laugh at the realization, a sleepy and drunken giggle at that. By the time they pulled up in front of Wendy's place, he could've already sworn that the whole world was spinning._

_"You're a fuckin' idiot," Wendy slurred slightly, having had a few too many drinks herself. She normally wouldn't have driven at all in this state, but she couldn't very well have left Juice there to get his face bashed in, picking fights with anyone he could. She nudged him over to sit on the couch while she grabbed a few ice cubes and wrapped them in a paper towel. She walked over and held it out to himm only to realize that he was practically in a total stupor. He couldn't have even touched his finger to his nose without poking his eye out at this point._

_"Goddammit, Juice," she groaned, leaning overso she could press the makeshift icepack to his face herself. "One of these days, you're gonna -"_

_Wendy's foot suddenly caught on the foot of the couch, and she toppled over, landing with a slight thud on top of Juice, who did nothing but grimace slightly in response._

_For a brief moment, Wendy didn't move - it had just been so long since she'd been close to somebody like this. Sure, there was Jax. And Jax had needs. But he was always abrupt, to-the-point, never pausing to linger and let her actually feel warmth from him. But right now? Juice was so warm. He wasn't pulling away. Unintentionally, she pressed her body even closer to his. Just for the warmth, for the contact. It made sense in her head. She wasn't thinking that this was her friend's husband. He was just there._

_Juice, for his part, was in a complete haze. All that made sense in his mind at the moment was that this morning, he'd been so close to making love to his wife again before Jax had shown up. The feeling of a warm body next to his, in his current state, set off something unintentional - a frustration and a need. Reflexively, his arm curled around the waist of the woman on top of him, and she brought her lips down hungrily onto his..._

* * *

><p>And that was it. After a while, he had woken up on Wendy's couch, undressed, with Wendy laying asleep on his lap. It didn't take a genius to deduce what had happened, and in his newfound state of sobriety, Juice had thrown on his clothes, left Wendy on the couch and walked all the way back to where his own car was waiting at the Hairy Dog.<p>

After slamming his forehead onto the steering wheel in self-loathing, he drove back home to find his wife and daughter on the couch waiting for him - he couldn't even look at them.

So here he was in the shower, as though he could wash away what he had just done - and the worst part was, he knew that Denise didn't even suspect him of anything. She'd tried to say hello when she'd come in and he'd hurried right past her. She trusted him that much, she didn't even think of the possibility he had done it - the worst thing he could possibly do.

Juice knew he had fucked up - but if it was never going to happen again, if it had just been a mistake that would never be repeated, then telling Denise the truth would just cause more heartache for them both, wouldn't it? Wendy was a friend. Wendy was both of their friend. Juice knew Wendy would agree that it had just been a mistake, a trick of the alcohol. She had her tubes tied. Their would be no unpleasant surprises. This never needed to get out.

Juice scratched furiously at the sides of his head in frustration as the thoughts swirled violently in his head, trying to make sense of what he had just done. But none of it made sense. None of it did. He scrubbed furiously at his own skin, at his hands, at his face. He winced as his hand roved over the bruise on his cheekbone from the brief skirmish at the bar.

No one needed to know about this. No one needed to ever know.

By the time he got out of the shower, Denise was already asleep in bed, and he could hear the little music-playing nightlight playing in Sofia's nursery, which meant that she had gone to sleep as well. He gently laid down in bed next to Denise and nestled behind her, wrapping her arm around her waist. With a quiet noise, she snuggled up close to him, and despite the fact that he was riddled with guilt and a sense of unworthiness, he held her tightly.

He was sorry. God knew he was sorry, and he was going to make it up to her. But she could never know.

* * *

><p>Denise woke up the next morning, rubbing her eyes gently and realizing that she was alone again. With a slight frown, she got up to go get Sofia dressed to bring over to Lyla's again, since Denise had an engagement photoshoot booked for a couple in Modesto. Juice gave her a hard time for still continuing to take gigs, as though money was going to run out anytime soon - between Juice's many side projects, and Denise's inheritance, their family was sitting pretty on a formidable amount of money. But Denise enjoyed working. She enjoyed being busy.<p>

"You look exhausted," Lyla said when she opened the door for Denise. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Denise shrugged with a weak laugh. "Juice just got back in late last night."

"Did he?" Lyla asked, the same skittish expression returning to her face as from the night before. "Well... I hope nothing bad happened to him."

Denise blinked in mild confusion at her friend's comments. What reason was there to believe something bad had happened? Lyla cleared her throat, waving her hand dismissively before Denise could even ask the question. "Never mind," she laughed. "Hand the little princess over to Aunt Lyla, Chinadoll."

People were strange, Denise thought to herself after she'd gotten Sofia settled and said goodbye to her and Lyla for the day. People were acting very, very strange.

She tried not to let it bother her too much or to interfere with her work, though - usually, when something was bothering her this much, her work turned out strangely better than usual, because she doubled her efforts in order to compensate. When she wrapped up, she decided to head home to rest for a while before picking Sofia back up from Lyla's, only to find that Juice was home early as well, waiting for her on the couch with dinner waiting.

"Hey, babe," he said with a wide grin, getting up and hugging her tightly as she entered - she put her camera bag down on the ground and hesitated before returning the hug with a confused grin.

"Hey," she said with a weak laugh. "What's going on? Did I - did I miss something?" It would be hilarious, Denise thought, if she was the one to forget some kind of anniversary or milestone, and Juice remembered. Hilarious and terrible at the same time.

"No - nothin', I just wanted to do somethin' for you," he said with that lopsided, boyish grin as he leaned over to place a brief kiss omn his wife's lips before leaning his forehead against hers and draping his hands on her waist. "I just figured, you know, we could have dinner, watch a movie on the couch - do somethin' together before that event you got goin' on at the park," he shrugged. "I - I called Lyla and asked if she could watch Fifi for a couple more hours."

"Oh, you talked to her?" Denise asked with a relieved grin and Juice led her over to the couch and they both flopped down tiredly next to each other. "Thank God. She was acting so weird, I was worried you two weren't getting along or something."

Juice tried his best not to let on when he tensed at the mention of Lyla acting weird. He and Wendy had dropped the kids off at the same time at Lyla's house. If anyone were to get suspicious about something having happened, it would have been her. But obviously, Denise didn't know. Maybe, Juice decided, Lyla was on the same page. Shit happened. Mistakes happened. There was no need to cause Denise more pain over it.

All he could do was make this night the best stay-home date night that he could - and he tried his damnedest to make it happen. They watched old Audrey Hepburn movies together on the couch like old times, eating dinner and having a couple drinks.

"I miss being like this," Juice spoke up suddenly, wrapping an arm aroudn Denise's waist once they'd finished eating and were focused on the movie. "Like back in Stockton, or up at the cabin - before we got stuck here in Charming," he admitted honestly. He had to let some of this out, he decided, if he was going to keep the larger secret. To his surprise, Denise didn't react poorly. Instead, she leaned her head onto his shoulder with a sigh.

"You know we're only stuck for now, right?" Denise said, her voice sounding more tired than he'd heard her sound for a long time, even when she'd been in the hospital. His heart practically throbbed with guilt, hearing her like this. "I'm just - I'm glad I have you. I'm glad you and me and Fifi are all still in this together."

"Me too, babe," Juice said weakly, feeling his throat constricting as though resisting the urge to just throw the truth into the open and get it off of his chest. He wasn't a bad guy. He didn't want to be one of the bad guys. He didn't want to be like Jax, who failed and failed as a husband, who strayed all the time as though it was one of his duties. Juice didn't _want_ to be that guy. One time didn't make him one of them. It couldn't. "Me too."

"Thank you," Denise said, shifting and smiling up at him. The strange expression on his face, however, left her feeling uneasy - fearful, even that he didn't understand. SHe knew she'd come short. She knew that sometimes, Jax walked all over them as though he was _meant_ to come first. "For - for being here for me while I do what I gotta do. This is all for us, baby. I know I - I probably piss you off. All the time," she laughed weakly. "And I know maybe you feel like... like I keep putting you second. But everything I'm doing is for us. You know that, right?"

"Of course. Of course I know that," Juice stammered, feeling the guilt bubbling up inside of him with every word that she spoke. He wanted to beg her not to thank him, to not make this worse for him, but he couldn't. It killed him that he had to look her in the eye and listen to her thank him, after what he'd done, as though he was some kind of super-husband. As though he hadn't just messed up in the worst possible way. "Promise me somethin'?" he asked suddenly, feeling almost child-like. Denise's brow furrowed in concern, and she cocked her head to one side.

"What is it?"

"Promise that - no matter what, at the end of everythin'," Juice said, the fear in his voice now starting to seep through. "It's gonna be you and me and Fifi in the end. Promise."

Juice knew it wasn't fair, asking her to make that promise without knowing why he was asking it. He knew it wasn't fair to let her keep thinking that she was falling short as his wife, and that she was the one who should have been thankful for him sticking around. But needed to hear it. He needed it more anything.

"Of course it will be," Denise said with an incredulous laugh. "You and me and Sofia. I promise."

With that, she leaned over and kissed him soundly, her hand gently sliding up his chest to rest at the base of his neck, her fingertips gently pressing into the tense muscles there. Her lips moved down over his cheek, down his neck, to his collarbone, and Juice felt himself respond to her touch immediately. He didn't deserve her right now - he knew he didn't - but he _wanted_ her worse than ever. And she deserved her husband's undivided attention. He quickly swept her off of her feet and carried her to the bedroom.

He owed it to her to make her as happy as he could, he decided to himself as he laid her down on the bed, roving his hands slowly over her petite form and relishing every moment as though he thought she might disappear at any moment. Maybe he didn't deserve happiness, he thought to himself, but his wife did.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I'm so sorry! I know you all asked me in reviews not to do it, but I did it. Just hang in there and trust me that this needed to happen for the story, and that things just need to get worse before they can get better. And boy, are they still going to get worse. In any case, thank you all for your reviews and your support. I have to admit, I'm a little paranoid about you guys jumping ship for this Juice/Wendy thing, but I hope you'll all stick around. I promise, it's just another hurdle that is needed to move the story forward._

_The next chapter will be on its way soon as well, and it will take some of the spotlight slightly off of Juice and Denise's predicament, but we will most definitely be coming back to that very soon, in a very big way._

_Anyway, until next time, cheers!_


	26. Chapter 26

If there was one thing August Marks did not appreciate, it was having a wrench thrown in his plans, especially when that wrench came in the form of his valuable rat in SAMCRO being found out. Flick had been an easy target for him to recruit - ambitious, and not yet quite as loyal as his fellow prospect to the organization. He did, however, get one interesting piece of information out of the young man before his unfortunate demise.

He had made a habit of holding meetings in the suite he had given to Gemma - partially out of convenience and partially out of spite. Today, however, he came with a sheet of paper which he put down on the coffee table. Charles Kwan, who now was able to walk with the help of a cane, leaned over to glance at what he had put down. Jarry stood at her usual place by the door, though she looked far less interested than before. Gemma sat in her seat, not bothering to look at all. Her face had became pale and gaunt from sitting inside for so much of her time, only able to spend a few minutes outside in the small garden on Marks' building.

"It appears that Denise Ortiz," Marks said, placing special emphasis on the surname while glancing snidely at Charles, who winced as though it were a physical blow, "is throwing a little carnival in Charming."

Gemma's gaze flicked upward upon hearing this - events like this used to be her job, her duty as the matriarch of SAMCRO. She wasn't only the matriarch of SAMCRO, after all. All of Charming looked to her. She had once held that kind of power, that kind of esteem - and in the end, that power had wrecked her. What was Deedee doing? Her brow wrinkled as she finally leaned over and confirmed it to be true - the flier read that the carnival was sponsored by SAMCRO, and organized by Denise Ortiz.

"Quaint, isn't it?" Marks smirked, moving the piece of paper closer to Gemma, then looking at Charles. Both of them were so transparent. "It seems like your sister has other priorities than bothering with our business. Perhaps she's smarter than I thought."

Charles' expression looked briefly pained, conflicted even - but it seemed that Gemma was the only one able to sense that from him. Marks, after all, had no interest in how his business associates were feeling, as long as they were doing their assigned duties. Charles finally spoke up, his voice sounding slightly constrained. "Well," he said. "It's good to know that she's learned her place. Stopped meddling in the men's business."

"Indeed," Marks nodded smugly. "It looks very... cute," he said. Gemma had to resist the sneer tugging at her own features upon hearing his use of the word 'cute'. He was poison. It seemed like every word that passed through his lips became tainted. "Maybe we'll even pay her a little visit. Perhaps you'd like... to come?" Marks asked with a sarcastic grin in Gemma's direction, knowing full well that she couldn't step foot at an event like that without having to face her comeuppance from the club. She stared at him blankly before looking away at a far wall. Marks got to his feet then looked up at Jarry at the door, nodding for her to open it. SHe complied, and Marks had already walked halfway across the room before glancing back at Charles, who shakily got to his feet with his weight leaned heavily on his cane. "The Sheriff will see me down. I'm sure you'll catch up."

Marks and Jarry exited ahead, and Charles allowed the door to swing shut behind them before he continued pushing himself to his feet. Gemma, however, stood up and surprisingly walked over to help him move across the room.

"Your sister is up to something," she said quietly as she held him up by his arm, assisting him around the chairs and towards the door. He breathed deeply through his nostrils and replied without looking back at Gemma. "August doesn't even realize it. She's smarter than he thinks. This isn't just... just a little _party_."

"I know."

He knew. He had a feeling that Denise was planning something, because this wasn't something she would do. She didn't like crowds or parties, she didn't like carnivals and festivals. She was, at heart, a very solitary girl that had only opened herself up to the world, Charles knew, because of Juan Carlos Ortiz. That was the entire reason, Charles admitted to himself, why she had once been so easy to manipulate - because she had no one else. Gemma let out a noncommittal "Hmm" upon hearing his answer, and reached out to open the door for him. She didn't step outside of the suite, however. She had nowhere to go anyway.

"Are you going?" she asked suddenly, her expression a pure poker face, unrelentingly concealing the reasons why she wanted to know. Charles now looked back over his shoulder at Gemma, and when their eyes met, there seemed to be some strange, unspoken accord. Some part of both of them, regardless of their transgressions, rooted for Denise - whatever she was doing. Some part of both of them wanted escape. He nodded, and went on his way.

* * *

><p>Happy Lowman hated sitting and doing nothing.<p>

The fact that he was forced to stay back from a run because he'd gotten a pretty bad gash that needed stitching up from a protection run the previous night seemed like bullshit to him, but he'd eventually given in to Jax's insistence that he should stay back and avoid anymore damage. It was just hash, anyway. Nothing exciting.

So here he was, going admittedly a little bit stir-crazy in his dorm room at the clubhouse. He wasn't even in the mood to be entertained by any of the croweaters milling around - and he'd made that known pretty directly. So, when the sound of a woman's voice outside interrupted the quiet, his initial reaction was to growl in annoyance until the woman identified herself.

"It's Deedee," the voice called out. "Anybody here?"

Happy stood up, fully able to ignore the slight twinge of pain in his side from the stitches as he moved to open the door. Denise, who had been knocking on each door in turn, turned on her heel in relief and walked over.

"Where's everybody?" she asked, leaning on the side of the doorjamb.

"Run," he said succintly. "Handing off some hash in Rio Vista."

"Ah. Bumfuck nowehere," she said with a slight grin. "Well, thanks. Juice didn't say anything to me about it, and the croweaters outside never tell me anything I need to know."

"We make it a point not to tell them anything, period."

Denise looked Happy's face over - sometimes, she struggled with figuring out if he was serious, or joking, or a little bit of both. He nodded for her to come in, and she took a seat on a chair in the room, drawing her legs up underneath her.

"Your ol' man didn't tell you they were goin' on a run?" Happy asked, sitting down on the bed again. His gaze focused on Denise for a good few seconds as the gears turned in his head. Juice had been acting weird forthe past week or so - really skittish, really paranoid, couldn't look Jax in the eye. Guilty, like. "Ain't like him."

"Yeah," Denise shrugged. "He's been a little... off lately. Always working extra shifts at TM or busy with something or other. He's probably pissed at me still," she admitted. "I've been a little preoccupied, you know?"

"Yeah. A man does crazy things when he's not gettin' laid."

"How would you know?" Denise asked with a smirk. "When are you not gettin' laid?"

It had been a joke, but the lack of a shift in Happy's expression, even in the slightest, left Denise feeling incredibly unsettled. It seemed nearly impossible, but it almost appeared that the question had bothered him. And then, the answer seeped into her mind, not all at once, but like an old lightbuld slowly flickering to life. "I had a really interesting talk with Wenya the day we found out about Flick," Denise spoke up bluntly.

"Yeah?" Happy said, his eyebrows lifting slightly.

"Yeah," Denise said calmly. "Said you guys were shitfaced one day. Said you started talking about her bein' your ol' lady one day -"

"Not shitfaced," he said stiffly. "And it was strictly in hypotheticals."

"So hypothetically, if she were to be your ol' lady," Denise said, unrelenting because she knew Happy wouldn't do anything to her except stop talking, "You'd want her to stop being one of Nero's girls."

"What's mine's mine," Happy shrugged, not giving up any more information. "It was just talk. Somethin' nice about bein' able to get your dick wet with a girl who gets the life. Doesn't ask too many questions like you do - no offense."

"None taken."

Denise gave a lopsided grin, knowing that this was the closest she'd probably ever get to Happy mentioning anything that resembled feelings to her, especially when it came to Wenya. She shifted so her feet were on the ground and her elbows were resting on her knees so she could lean closer to him.

"You're a good guy, Hap. A strange, twisted kind of good, but still good," she added with a laugh, reaching out and giving his forearm a gentle squeeze before standing up to leave, knowing that this was probably the most talking she'd get him to do anyhow. She was fond of the guy, and she always felt confident that he was a good guy - in a 'King Kong, Iron Giant kind of way', she had once explained to Juice. "You take care of yourself."

"You too," he said with an upward nod as she got up and walked towards the door. "And don't let your husband keep you in the dark about shit like that."

"It's just a run," Denise shrugged. As she left, however, Happy - like Lyla - stared after her with a sneaking suspicion that Juice was keeping more from his wife than just the fact that he was going on a run. He, too, was protective over Denise in a strange way. She had a way of doing that to people, he noticed. Making them want to protect her, despite the fact that she insisted she didn't need it. Maybe that was the reason.

Denise, however, remained blissfully ignorant. Instead of dwelling on Happy's strange statements, she got in her car and drove over to Nero's place - Lyla was working on a new film today, so Nero had thankfully volunteered to watch baby Sofia while Denise had a photoshoot. She would've asked Wendy, since she always had the boys, but Wendy didn't seem to be answering her phone, and Denise hated showing up unannounced. So, when she came around to Nero's house, she knocked on the door, which he answered within seconds.

"You're gonna love this, Chinita," he said with a grin, grabbing her gently by the arm and pulling her inside. Denise was about to ask what was going on when she caught sight of Sofia, shakily pulling herself to her feet by holding onto the couch. Denise clapped her hands over her mouth with a small gasp as she saw her little baby daughter let go of the couch and move one foot, then the other. Sofia giggled loudly as she plodded along over the floor unsupported for a few more steps before sitting back down on her bottom, and Denise immediately hurried over to scoop her daughter up into her arms, peppering the little girl's chubby cheeks with kisses.

"You're walking! Oh my god," she said, hugging her daughter tightly. "You're growing up - I can't believe it!"

"Those were her first steps without holdin' nothin'," Nero reassured with a smile, reaching out and placing a hand on Denise's back fondly. "You got here just in time."

"I can't believe Juice missed it," Denise said with a sad smile. "Fifi's been trying to pull herself up and walk for days now, it was just a matter of time."

Denise placed Sofia down and allowed her to wander around, practicing her newfound skill - being the proud mother she was, Denise needed to sit and wipe at her eyes for a few short moments, during which Nero took a seat next to her, chuckling gently.

"It's alright to cry a little bit, mami," he said, laughing and shaking his head. "Your baby's growin' up - you're allowed a few tears."

"Gemma bet me that she'd be walking before her first birthday. Said it was a sure thing that she'd have strong legs, because mommy and daddy were so good at running away from their problems," Denise said with a sad laugh - there was a certain pain that came with remembering just how loving, how motherly Gemma had been for that entire year in Lovelock, hiding out at the cabin. "I - I wish things were different so she coulda seen this."

Nero gave a heaving sigh, wrapping his arm more tightly around Denise's shoulders and rubbing her comfortingly. "I wish things was different too, Chinita. Believe me," he laughed sadly. "But they ain't."

"You miss her," Denise spoke up suddenly, turning to look Nero in the eye - he opened his mouth to reply, but he quickly realized that it hadn't been a question. "I know you do," Denise continued with a nod. "And - I think I do too. Sometimes. But things are never gonna be like that again."

"I know."

"I don't know why it feels like this," Denise said honestly. "She tried to kill me. She tried to kill my baby. But sometimes, no matter what she did, no matter how bad she messed things up... I miss her."'

It went without saying, of course, that Nero knew how Denise felt. Denise let out a heaving breath before looking over at Sofia, who was now learning the joy of walking in circles. She let out a tearful laugh before turning back to Nero.

"Forgiveness is a choice, Chinita," Nero spoke up gently, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "And - and Gemma ain't here," he pointed out, the sadness in his voice ringing so clearly that it practically pierced a hole in Denise's heart. "It don't matter how angry you are at her, it won't touch 'er none. You keep that anger in there," he said, raising his eyebrows as he reached out, tapping the pads of his index and middle fingers over Denise's heart. "That don't hurt nobody except for you."

He was right, of course. Denise grudgingly admitted to herself that Nero was almost always right. Even when a part of Denise wanted to chalk it up to him missing Gemma, to him loving her so much that he'd always choose her, right or wrong, she knew that there was nothing selfish about the words he was saying to her.

"I know. I know forgiving somebody's a choice," Denise said with a sad smile. "I just don't think it's a choice that I can make right now."

Nero nodded, patting a hand on Denise's back a couple of times. "Don't blame you," he admitted with a tired sigh, leaning backwards into the couch. "But just remember. All you get outta keepin' count of the people who did you wrong is pain. Don't none of us need any more of that."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Very brief chapter, setting a few things up for the next update. The next few chapters are going to be a little bit of a roller coaster, and I'm still editing them to my liking, but I'm hoping to have them ready for posting soon! I also might be posting some of my playlists/mixes for writing the story soon on my tumblr (**la-vik-ffn**), if anyone is interested!  
><em>

_Anyway, hope this humble chapter is to your liking! The next one will hopefully come either tomorrow or Tuesday. Until then, cheers!_


	27. Chapter 27

"The whole town'll come out, it'll be amazing," Lyla said casually - she was perched in the front seat of the car as Nero drove, while Denise sat in the back with Sofia's carseat. It was six in the morning and barely light out, and they were already heading out to the park to make sure that it was being set up properly.

"Here's hoping," Denise said nervously. "The guys are all supposed to get here together in a little while - entertain everybody and all that."

This whole carnival idea rested on so many "ifs" - if it all went to plan. if everyone showed up, if Melissa was able to bring the news cameras in, then they'd have something. If just one piece fell out of place, however, then it would all be for nothing.

"Are you sure watching Fifi isn't a bother?" Denise asked Nero, though it was clear she was only asking so she could have some sort of distraction from her nerves. Nero loved watching Sofia, loved the little girl almost as though she were his own granddaughter. The idea that he'd ever say no to watching her for a day, in his mind, was preposterous. He wasn't getting any younger, and while he had his son, and loved his son more than anyone in the world, a man getting on in age held on tight to anything he found to love. He chuckled, clicking his tongue.

"You should be more worried about me not wantin' to give the princess back at the end of the day," he laughed, glancing back into the rearview mirror. "I figure it'll be nice to let her test out her legs around the park, see the sights for a little while before you and Jax get started on whatever you got planned."

"Yeah," Denise nodded with a nervous smile. "I think that'd be nice."

They pulled up in front of the park, and they found that, contrary to what Denise had thought earlier, the boys were there already, helping to set up, directing the different tents and vendors where to set up. Bobby and Happy were putting up the large banner that Denise had designed onto two large poles behind a very simple center stage. It was a large tarpauline sign that read "Keep the charm in Charming!" in elegant, goldenrod lettering, surrounded by photos that Denise had taken around town. Lyla whistled, digging her hands into her pockets and raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"Deedee, that's badass," she said with an incredulous laugh. "You made that yourself?"

"Juice helped me with it a little bit," Denise said with a proud smile. "Speaking of which - is he -"

"Over there, helping the Deli guys set up," Lyla nodded, spotting him first with the old Italian men who owned the sandwich shop about a block down from Lumpy's.

As though he could sense when he was being talked about, Juice looked over and flashed a bright smile - an exaggerated smile, even - in his wife's direction. Lyla glanced over at Denise as she and Juice gave one another a wave, but she opted not to say anything. Juice was a weird guy. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was all in her head.

Whatever the case, the event was already shaping up to be quite impressive, with all of the businesses owned in Charming setting up tents to display their best. Within minutes, a van pulled into the parking lot, and Melissa, along with a couple of other young men carrying cameras and tripods, came tromping down towards the area.

"Bright and early," Melissa grinned, taking a swig from the Starbucks cup in her hand. "I have some friends interning at other networks coming down too, this is probably the biggest local news piece any of us are gonna get our hands on."

"Are you actually gonna, you know - talk?" Lyla piped in. "On camera? Are you sure that's a good idea, Deedee?"

"I don't think I have a choice, I'm the mastermind behind all of this," Denise laughed casually, opting simply not to recognize the dangers of being the face of something that, for all intents and purposes, spit in the face of someone as big as August Marks. Lyla didn't even know how Denise intended to do it, but she knew that there was no safe way.

"I got the announcement on the air on KCRA," Melissa continued as they all strolled down to where the event was getting set up. "So you can count on at least a few folks from Stockton showing up. Aired all over Sac too, so we're bound to catch a few people."

It was a good setup, Denise decided. Maybe she wasn't hopeless with business after all. Sure, she had sworn to stay out of business entirely, sworn it didn't interest her in the least, but this - bringing together an entire town of entrepreneurs, essentially - was strangely gratifying. All of the small businesses in town got publicity and new customers, since she had let them all set up for free as long as they reserved the space, and the town came out in full force under one motto:

Keep the charm in Charming.

And the motto seemed to really stick - people quickly swooped up the free t-shirts and took photos. Denise felt a strange surge of pride, realizing that a little bit of clever branding and a few willing participants was a powerful thing indeed.

"Aunt Deedee, Aunt Deedee!"

Abel came plodding down the sidewalk to where Denise extended her arms, sweeping him up into a tight hug and lifting him off the ground - only briefly, but for a good few seconds more than she'd been able to in recent weeks. She was thankful to see Abel doing well - he'd been keeping up with seeing a therapist and was now down to one visit a week, but for the most part he seemed recovered from what he'd seen that night with his grandmother.

Jax came up as well, followed by Wendy, who held Tommy's hand as he hobbled down the walkway. Denise gave them a friendly wave while Abel gestured for them to come over - Jax grinned back, but Wendy quickly averted her gaze back to Tommy.

Her too? Lyla thought to herself, her forehead wrinkling briefly. She had been around enough to know that something was off - but it was Denise's day, she reminded herself. She didn't need any distractions.

And within a couple of hours, the day took off.

It started with the people of Charming coming out to participate in the festivities, with children playing and begging their parents for money to buy snacks from the vendors. But then, curious tourists who had heard about the event on the local news began trickling in, buying food and goods from the vendors and listening to music from the local schools' acts. Bobby was backstage getting dressed in his Elvis garb when cars full of university students from Davis and from Berkeley came out in droves - hipster types that Denise hadn't been able to stand, admittedly, but she wasn't surprised to see them at all. They ate this kind of stuff up.

After a short while of spending time with his sons, Jax made his way over to Denise - this time, Denise noticed the slightly sour expression on Wendy's face as Jax left her with the boys, but she had no time to think anything of it, since Jax's arrival seemed purposeful.

"So you got your crowd, you got your cameras," Jax said, nodding around at the spattering of videographers scattered in the crowd - a mix locals and out-of-towners. "I think it's showtime, ringleader. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Denise said with a heaving sigh, though she glanced around to try and catch sight of Juice. When she was unable to find him in the crowd, however, she nodded and walked towards the center stage, not noticing the black sedan pull up in the parking lot.

August Marks, after all, would not have missed such a quaint event for all the world.

* * *

><p>"Could I bother you to watch the boys for a second, Ly? I gotta use the ladies' room. Port-o-potty. Whatever," Wendy asked, though her expression was flighty, paranoid even. Lyla's brow furrowed, but she could hardly deny the request. She nodded and muttered unenthusiastic agreement while Wendy walked off.<p>

She had seen him off by the corndog stand. Juice was wandering around alone, just like her. He was alone, just like her - Denise had put business first, just like Jax. Wendy managed to catch up with Juice just as Denise's voice first came loudly over the loud speakers when she stepped up to the microphone. Juice looked over towards her, but only for a moment before Wendy took a hold of his arm, pulling him gently through the crowd towards one of the nearby storage tents, where they could talk without being seen.

"Juice -"

"No," he said, raising his eyebrows and backing away, holding up his hands. "Nope - I'm not gonna -"

"I just wanted to talk about what happened," she said, her expression sad and pleading. "We were both lonely, and - and they've been forgetting all about us. We didn't do anything wrong -"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wendy?" Juice asked, infuriated. "We didn't do anything _wrong_? That's my wife out there, and you and Jax -"

"What about me and Jax?" Wendy snapped resentfully. "I told you, he won't even admit to it. Everyone knows about him and me and he still won't. But you? Juice - you're the only one who gets it. You're the only person who know how _hard_ it is for me -"

"Stop it," Juice said, clenching his eyes shut briefly. He hated when women cried - it made him nervous. Made him panic. Especially when they were women who had been good to him, been important to him, and no doubt, Wendy had helped him out in the past too. But seeing women cry like this put him in a bad state, made him make bad calls. He remembered seeing Gemma on the floor, terrified next to all of that blood...

"Juice, please," Wendy pleaded, reaching out and gripping the front of his kutte. "You gotta understand. You - you don't like being alone either, right? You know how bad this _hurts_, and I just -"

"Listen, Wendy," he interrupted, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. "This can't happen, a'right? It can't. I get how you feel, I get it, but -"

Before he could finish, however, she had pressed her mouth again to his to shut him up.

* * *

><p>The roar of the crowd cheering "Keep the charm in Charming", led by Denise Ortiz on the stage, would make the evening news for sure. The college students had instant whipped out their phones to post photos and videos everywhere, and more than one person had taken a video of Denise's entire speech about how Charming would stand for big corporations like Marks Incorporated to come into their town and turn it into a tourist trap, to put a Starbucks on every corner and light up the sky with the neon lights of a strip club.<p>

It was only in the middle of the chant that Denise caught sight of one figure in the crowd specifically - August Marks was her. She felt her heart skip a beat when his gaze met hers directly, even while the crowd still roared in approval.

And he didn't look pleased in the slightest.

But it was too late now - the damage had been done, and Denise knew that backing down now wouldn't save her if her number was already up. She raised her fist in the air and continued leading the crowd in the cheer, looking directly at Marks, whose face contorted into a slight sneer before he weaved his way into another area of the crowd.

Leaving the festivities to resume with a second wind - the out-of-towners now had a second wind, and were more resolved to spend money at the booths of local vendors - Denise recalled what she had said to Jax when they had first planned this event. Marks knew how to deal with outlaws. He'd need to retreat back into his hole for a short while, at least, to plan his next move, and every second of time was money. She let out a heaving breath as she finally retreated from the stage.

"Missus Ortiz," Marks said, striding up to the petite woman backstage just as she stepped off. "It's... a pleasure to finally meet you. Don't worry," he smirked derisively. "I can't lay a hand on you here, I know that. Not after that little stunt you just pulled. It was very cute. Very clever."

Denise backed away a few steps, and she hoped against all odds that somehow Juice would know that Marks was here in front of her, that he would just show up. He didn't.

"You're not gonna get Charming," Denise spoke up, sounding deceptively brave. "You can plow through every town in the Central Valley, but -"

"I can't have Charming right now," Marks said, leaning over so that his face was close to her. "I'll admit your little hippie tactics put a speed bump in my way, but in the end, all you've done is make me annoyed," he explained smoothly. "I'm a resourceful man, Denise. In the end, I will always get what I need."

The next words that came from Marks' mouth gave Denise a chill, and she couldn't help but gasp sharply when she heard them.

"Just because I can't touch you and your family doesn't mean that there's no one _else_ I can leverage to gain a foothold in this town."

Denise took a step backwards from Marks, who was now flashing her a cruel, toothy grin that seemed angry, almost predatorial - he didn't take another step closer to her, only stared her down for a few seconds, causing the skin on her arms and the back of her neck to prickle, and her chest to tighten as though his stare was siphoning the air out of it.

"I only came to congratulate you on winning one round. But," he said, rolling his shoulders, "I have someone else with me who might have something to say to you as well."

Denise stiffened when she saw Charles come around the corner, walking with some support from a wooden cane. The pair stared one another down, and Marks gave a chuckle, shaking his head. "I love family reunions. Very touching," he smirked. "Charles. See if you can talk some sense into your baby sister. It may be the last chance I give her to see reason."

Marks then strode away, leaving Charles and Denise standing together. Charles grabbed a hold of Denise's sleeve and, with surprising ability, managed to pull her along with one hand, still using his cane with the other. "You have no idea what you've done," he said quietly through clenched teeth. "You have no idea -"

"Let me go," Denise hissed, attempting to wrench her arm away but, out of old habit of not wanting to harm her own brother, she didn't through her full weight into trying to escape. "Charles -"

"Denise, what did you do?" he hissed, glancing around at the entire event - the beautiful facade for a clever scheme that he never would have thought his younger, more impressionable sister capable of. Now that he thought of it, he should have expected no less of her. "I told you, it's dangerous to cross August this way-"

"Let me go -"

"Would you just listen to -"

Charles stumbled slightly, causing Denise to fall like a domino as well so she stumbled into a nearby storage tent, falling in between two figures inside. She leapt to her feet, and felt her stomach drop when she realized what she had just come across.

Juice.

And Wendy.

Both of them were red in the face and short of breath, and Juice had a distinct smear of lipstick along the neckline of his white t-shirt. Wendy's lipstick.

Juice and Wendy.

Juice, for one, looked at his wife with a horrified expression to match the sickened look on her face, and she backed away from them, just as Charles managed to regain his bearings. Denise's gaze flicked in between all three of them. Juice. Wendy. Charles. Juice and Wendy. And Charles.

All of them had betrayed her. She inhaled with a deep gasp, and took a step backwards, while Juice stepped forward, reaching out to try and grab a hold of her arm, keep her from running away.

"Baby. Dee," he said, his voice quivering as he reached out for her. "This - this isn't what it -"

SMACK!

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before Denise's palm collided with the side of his face so forcefully that his head turned off to one side. He winced, but accepted the blow. Maybe if he did, he hoped, she would forgive him. Maybe if he just took the punishment like a man, he could get right with her. Maybe -

"It isn't what it looks like?" Denise supplied with a shrill, humorless laugh, the cold tone of her voice killing his hopes of this being solved so easily. "It's not what it looks like. Juice? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Nothing was happening! I was telling her to stop," Juice said miserably, taking a few careful steps towards his wife. "Baby, please -"

"You stay away from me! You all stay the hell away from me," she said, her voice finally cracking in a hopeless sob. "All of you -"

Juice, her husband. Charles, her brother. Wendy, who had been her friend, who had looked out for after coming home from the hospital. They were all traitors.

"Please," Juice begged, his voice cracking as well. He made a strange movement, as though considering the possibility of getting onto his knees and begging for forgiveness, but he thought better of it, not wanting to create a scene. Maybe if he didn't make things any worse, it would go away. Maybe. Maybe. "Dee. Denise, please -"

"Save it, Juice. Just - just..."

But whatever she was going to suggest he do, he wouldn't know as she quickly turned on her heel and ran away. Feeling strangely out of place in the scene he had just witness, Charles spared Juice only a briefly glare before regaining his composure and walking away. Wendy hesitantly reached out to touch Juice's arm apologetically, but he yanked his arm away, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck.

"Get away from me," he said frantically. "You - you might'a just ruined everything -"

"I ruined everything?" Wendy said, her face screwed up in frustration. "This is on both of us, Juice, not just me -"

"Just get the hell away from me!" Juice roared before he clenched his eyes shut, rubbing over his eye sockets with his palms. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be losing her like this. Wendy made small, disgusted noise before turning and walking away, but not without a few parting words, punctuated by her index finger jabbing into Juice's chest.

"You wanted this too," she said as she left.

No, Juice thought. He had never wanted this. He had never wanted her. It was a mistake. It was an enormous mistake that he thought he would be able to take to the grave because Denise didn't need to know. But now? Now it was too late.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So, slightly longer chapter than usual, and a lot happened in here, so I hope I didn't lose any of you along the way! But we've gotten the revelation out of the way, and now, Juice and Denise are just going to need to deal with the aftermath. So are Jax and Wendy, for that matter. My next update may be slightly delayed, because I have a ton of work-related things I need to prioritize, as well as some family things. But, I'm hoping that I won't keep you waiting for too long. No more than a week scout's honor!_

_Your reviews all mean a ton to me, and I'm happy that you've all stuck around - I love writing this story, and it means the world to me that some number of you guys enjoy reading it. Anyway, until next time, cheers!_


	28. Chapter 28

"Hey! Hey, Ling Ling, quit wanderin' around and get your ass over here!"

Sometimes, Tig thought with annoyance, this little Chinese girl was more trouble than she was worth. Granted, the event at the park today had been a raging success, but the fact that she had disappeared during clean-up left him grumbling about how the little rich girl would probably never get used to doing her own chores.

When they had realized that no one knew where she was, however - not even Juice, or Nero, who was still watching Sofia - everyone's mind had jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Marks had been there. Charles Kwan had been there. In a crowd that size, it would be easy to nab a pint-sized little Chinese waif like Dee and stuff her in a duffel bag or something, so people had set out in separate directions to find her, knowing she could very well be anywhere by now.

It just so happened that Tig was the one who had the privilege of finding her walking down the side of a road, halfway to downtown.

"What the fuck you think you're doin', huh?" he called out when she didn't even acknowledge him, still just wandering along slowly. "Don't make me -"

But when she finally turned to face him and he saw her face, puffy and red from crying, he shut his mouth.

He was half-surprised that she didn't bolt when he parked his bike on the side of the road and half-jogged over to her, his forehead wrinkled. "What's the big idea, huh, Potsticker?"

"Dunno," she said, her voice low and quiet, her gaze averted. She didn't even give him the routine smack in the arm for his nicknames for her, which for Tig, was the most unusual thing of all. "Just needed to take a walk -"

"Downtown, alone, after pissing off August Marks?" Tig asked incredulously, glancing her over to see if she'd maybe hit her head, or if her eyes were glazed over at all. She had to be high. She had be tripping on _something_. "You're a smart kid, you think now's the time for a nice little stroll all alone?"

"Sorry."

"Now you don't feel like being chatty?" Tig pressed. "You spend half the day with a on a stage with a bullhorn with plenty to say, but now -"

"I just wanted to be alone," Denise said, her jaw clenching in annoyance. "After what I saw today, all I want is -"

"Whaddaya mean, what you saw?" Tig interrupted, holding up his hand to silence her. "It was a fuckin' picnic, Ling Ling. What could you possibly have seen that gave you this brilliant idea?" He paused, and started to joke with a smirk, "If it's just because someone broke the news to you that hot dogs ain't made outta real dog, then I hate to see what happens when you find out -"

"Did you know?" she asked, her face contorted in a suddenly paranoid rage. "Did you know about them? Am I the last person to know about this too, just like the run to Lodi, and the -"

"Sweetheart, sweetheart," Tig said, groaning slightly as he reached out and placed his hands on Denise's shoulders to try to calm her down, the rapid firing of words swirling too quickly around his head for him to pick up that she really, genuinely upset. What was it with women? "Did I know about what?"

"About Wendy playing tonsil hockey with my fucking husband!"

Tig recoiled upon hearing it, his mouth hanging open slightly while he took a step back, wiping a gloved hand over his mouth in disbelief. Juice? And Wendy? The guy had been off for weeks now, and he knew that it probably had to do with his wife, but this wasn't the revelation he'd been expecting.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't know nothin', sweetheart. Nothin'. Lemme take you somewhere."

But now, Denise had become a tearful mess, sobbing and shaking so that Tig felt compelled to - however awkwardly - put an arm around her shoulders and give her a gentle squeeze. "The kid's an idiot," he said. "I'll bring you over to Jax's, a'right?"

* * *

><p>"Juice? And Wendy?" Jax asked incredulously when Tig showed up on his front porch. The first question out of his mouth was to make sure that Wendy wasn't around - probably for the best, Tig pointed out. That was why he'd told Denise to hang back by his bike, to avoid any run-ins with the woman she'd just seen locking lips with her husband. "Jesus Christ..."<p>

"She's just cryin' and snifflin' and not makin' two shits of sense," Tig explained, dumbfounded by the sight of the girl in this state. Why was he always the one who had to find her after shit happened? "I didn't know where else to bring her."

"Here's fine," Jax said with a curt nod before jogging down the front steps to go get Denise, who stood at Tig's bike, holding her jacket tightly around herself. He put an arm around her shoulders and brought her inside, nodding to Tig that it was alright for him to get going. Denise sat silently on the sofa for a few moments, looking down at her hands while Jax shut the door behind her and struggled for a way to even begin this conversation. "Deedee," he began unsurely. "I'm sorry -"

"Don't be," Denise interrupted weakly. "You and Wendy aren't - aren't anything, right? It's not like you can control what she does."

"You don't needa keep your head on straight about this, Deedee," he said sternly. "You can be pissed. I know more than anybody what you've put into what you have with Juice. I don't believe your 'I'm okay' bullshit for one second -"

"Well, I do. I believe it," Denise said, lifting her head and finally making eye contact with Jax, her gaze fierce and determined. "Because if I don't believe that I'm okay, then what? I lose my shit completely? I didn't come back to this fucking town for this." Her voice cracked wearily, and she drew a shuddering breath. "All I wanted was to shut Marks down and get some peace with my family and now all of a sudden, my husband is kissing your ex-wife while I'm throwing myself into Marks's crosshairs and I don't fucking know why anymore."

All of the words tumbled out of Denise's mouth before she could control them, and by the time they had all been spoken, a dam seemed to have burst and her chest heaved with a sob as she covered her head in her hands. Jax reached his arm around her shoulders and patted her back slowly.

"Well, she ain't here. The boys are sleepin' at her place tonight -"

"When you say 'the boys', does that include my husband?" Denise interrupted bitterly, revealing her now blotchy, tear-stained face. She let out a pained, humorless laugh, pulling away from Jax and getting to her feet. "I - I should go home."

"Lemme give you a ride," Jax said, nodding towards the window where his bike was visibly parked. Denise hesitated momentarily - she hated riding on bikes. But her car was at home, and the only alternative was walking, which she honestly didn't have the energy to do. She shrugged in resignation.

Admittedly, the cold sting of the evening wind against her face did her a little good - she no longer felt like she was on fire in her anger, and her tears at least had dried by the time they pulled up back in front of her house, though as she got off the bike and realized that Juice's bike was in the driveway too, she halted in her tracks and inhaled sharply.

"You don't need to do this right now, Dee," Jax said, taking off his helmet. Admittedly, he cared abut Deedee. She was one of the nearest and dearest to him, and she had done more than her share to earn that distinction. He knew that going in there, seeing Juice right now, would just hurt her. After she had put so much on the line for the club, for Charming...

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dee," he said, his jaw clenched slightly, "But I'm tired of seein' you hurt. You don't need to face him -"

"Go home, Jax," Denise said in a tired, defeated voice. "Just let me deal with my family this time. You deal with yours."

The phrase seemed to hit Jax hard, and Denise could see in his expression that beneath his forced mask of smug, rough calm, the news about Juice and Wendy was taking a toll on his too. He cleared his throat and nodded succinctly before driving off. Denise, on the other hand, slowly walked up the steps - she already saw Juice rushing to the door to meet her, but when she opened the front door to step inside, she held up her hand to stop him from immediately reaching out to try and embrace her.

"Don't," she said quietly, taking a step forward and shutting the door behind her, all the while pushing Juice backwards and farther away from her, despite all of his efforts to get closer to her. "Don't you dare -"

"Baby, please," Juice pleaded again. "I don't love her, I love you. What you saw was a mistake. All of this was one huge mistake," he rambled, shaking his head desperately. "Wendy was just out of her fuckin' mind, she was upset that Jax is keepin' her on the backburner, and I was pissed that we couldn't get a moment to ourselves away from him and the club and - and I told her! I told her, what happened that night at the bar was a -"

"That night at the bar?" Denise repeated incredulously, her face contorted in confusion, which slowly morphed into understanding... and hurt. That night when Juice had left Sofia at Lyla's place, when he had come home late and rushed into the shower. "You slept with her," Denise said, her voice high and just barely making it out of her throat in her shock.

This was so much more than Denise had even known. It wasn't just a kiss. It wasn't just this once, today. She'd had a sneaking suspicion, of course, but without confirmation, without a confession, those suspicions could be dismissed. Now, though?

Denise's breath caught in her chest, and she felt suddenly smothered - the familiar feeling of being unable to breath, of being here in this living room of her own home just like she'd been when Gemma had attacked her, sent her pulse racing even faster. This was worse. This _felt_ so much worse. They'd been lying to her for weeks. Juice hung his head in shame, and when he didn't deny the accusation, Denise clapped a hand over her mouth, walking past him in the doorway and sitting down on the couch. Now, finally, Juice knelt in front of her with tears streaming down his own face, shaking his head.

"It was a mistake, and I told her it wasn't ever gonna happen again," Juice said, reaching out and grabbing so tight a hold on her hands that both of their knuckles went white. "Baby, come on. Say something - be mad at me. Anything -"

"I don't know what to say to you right now," she interrupted, her voice blank and defeated. "I really don't."

"It's just - you've been sharing everything with Jax," Juice said, the pain in his voice evident as he tried desperately to explain himself. "You've been telling him everything, doing everything -"

"So this is my fault?" Denise replied, suddenly feeling her anger gain a second wind. "I never fucked him, Juice! You crossed that line. I didn't. I've always been strong for you. Always, Juice - and now the one time, the one fucking time I need to you be strong for me while I do what I gotta do, and you cave. You go off and -"

"I'm sorry," Juice said, his voice piteous as he struggled to keep a hold of her hands, while she tried her best to pull them away. "Baby, I never meant for any of this to happen -"

"I trusted you. I trusted both of you," Denise said, her jaw clenched as she tried to keep herself composed, to not cry in front of him. "And you - you betrayed me."

The words hit Juice hard, harder even than any physical she might have thought to deal him, and he quickly recoiled, looking at his wife with something that looked like fear in his eyes. You betrayed me. The last time he'd heard those words, when they had come from Jax Teller, they had torn his life apart. This, Juice realized, would be worse. It was going to be so much worse.

But if it was going to be worse, Juice wanted to know it now. He wanted to know if he was losing his wife, because it was better than waiting. "Are you - are you leavin' me? Dee?" he asked, his expression hopeless. For a few seconds, Denise simply locked eyes with him, opening her mouth a few times attempting to answer but not finding the words. Finally, she gave a sad laugh, tears finally returning to her eyes.

"I should be able to answer that, huh?" she asked. "I should be able to look you in the eye and say, 'yes, I'm leaving and I'm taking our daughter and never fucking coming back'," she said, shaking her head. "But - I can't answer that. I can't deal with this shit right now," Denise said, getting back to her feet. Juice looked on in terror as she started towards the front door again and he hurried to try and stop her.

"Where you goin'?" he asked abruptly. "Dee-"

"I'm going to Nero's to pick up our daughter," she said blankly, shoving past him and walking out the door.

The drive to Nero's was quiet, and she had to open all of the car's windows to get enough air to keep her from passing out. Her face was red in anger and shame and loathing - but she didn't want her daughter to see her like this. She was hardly in any better shape, however, when she showed up at Nero's, and immediately upon opening the door, he knew something was amiss.

"Fifi's sleepin'," he said, turning the baby in his arms to face her mom. "What's goin' on, Chinita?"

"Daddy messed up," Denise said simply - Nero couldn't help but appreciate the fact that the woman spoke in euphemism, even when her baby was sleeping. "With Wendy."

Nero's mouth fell open in shock upon hearing the revelation, and he stepped back slightly, nodding for Denise to come inside, an invitation which she gladly accepted. She sat down on his couch and assumed the now all too familiar position of bowing her head into her hands. She let out a sigh, feeling completely exhausted by the day's events. It was supposed to be a simple plan, a simple event in the park to make a statement to Marks. Instead, it had snowballed into this.

"I don't even know if I blame him anymore," Denise admitted miserably, shaking her head. "Maybe he's - maybe he's right. Maybe I was the one who fell short. Maybe I deserved it -"

"You didn't do nothin' to deserve that," Nero interrupted. "Maybe you made a mistake. Makin' a mistake doesn't mean you deserve to lose the things you love."

"Well," Denise said with a sad laugh, realizing that some part of Nero wasn't only talking about Denise - he was talking about someone else, someone very dear to him who'd made her own mistakes as well. "I guess people don't always get what they deserve, then."

"Stay here for the night, mami," Nero said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Heard you had a long day. You don't need to go back to all that right now -"

"No," Denise said with a heaving sigh. The last thing she needed was someone to give her permission not to go home, when she was doing her best to force herself to. First Jax, now Nero. "I do. I do need to go back. I can't let this rip apart my family - at least for Fifi's sake," she said, her sad gaze drifting over to rest on her sleeping daughter. "I don't know what happens now," she shrugged honestly. "I just - I'm not going to take Sofia's daddy away from her just because my feelings are hurt."

"You're a good mama," Nero said, his brow furrowing as he looked down at Denise. "But you need space, chinita. You need to do this for you."

"If I start thinking about me, things fall to pieces," Denise said tiredly. "I can't think about me right now because - because thinking about me means thinking about how messed up everything is. And I don't wanna go there."

She just had to keep going, Denise told herself, even if only for the fact that she had a daughter to raise and a mission to accomplish. Bringing down Marks and saving Charming had cost her so much already - there was no point in turning back now. Nero sighed again, seeing just how broken, how tired the woman in front of him had become. When he'd first met her, she'd been young and hopeful. This was what Charming did to you. It chewed you up, and it spit you out when it was done with you.

But she was determined. Denise was determined to go back home, home to face the person who had hurt her like she had never thought possible. And it was a decision Nero both disagreed with and respected. It was noble, and choosing noble was perhaps sometimes right, but always painful.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Thank you for your reviews, first of all! They were a huge motivator for me to sit down and put aside time to work on this update. The Denise/Juice/Wendy/Jax fiasco still has a bit of a way to go before it starts looking "resolved", so stay tuned for more from them. But just like in real-life, other issues don't just up and disappear to make room for them to deal with it. So, there's still more in store for everyone involved. And - I was surprised to receive a review and a couple of Tumblr messages that possibly shipped Jax/Denise. Interesting...  
><em>

_My next review might be over the weekend, since I have a long weekend. But again, don't be angry with me if it takes a bit longer! Until then, cheers!_


	29. Chapter 29

"You serious, man?" Tig asked in a hushed tone as he and Bobby crouched over the hood of one of the cars at TM. "He cut Wendy off? Completely?"

"Can't see the boys or anything - Lyla's practically runnin' a daycare."

"How 'bout Chinadoll, doesn't she usually watch Jax's boys?"

Juice glanced over, having eavesdropped on their conversation - but when he head turned back to them from the car he was working on, they immediately stopped talking. It was a small wonder that Denise and Juice were still staying in the same house, knowing what he'd done - and everyone knew by now what he'd done.

TM and the clubhouse had been uncomfortable in the past week or so since the event at the park, mostly because no one knew how to react to Juice and Jax being in the same place. Jax, to his credit, had been relatively normal, save for a brief, offhanded comment that Juice had been let off easy, so he didn't have any excuse to slack on the job.

Juice felt a little guilty, too, for the fact that Wendy was suffering even more than he was. It was torturous, having Denise sleeping on the couch every night, having her only speak to him about Sofia. But Wendy had been cut off from the boys completely, from Jax completely, and Juice knew how much she loved him, how much she just craved closeness to him.

He wished that being sorry made a difference - because he had never felt so sorry in his life. He remembered the night after their wedding when they'd sat on the roof of the cabin, looking up at the stars. She'd said they would find a place for themselves in the world, that things would work out, and he felt terrible for having stopped believing. But hadn't she stopped for a while, too? Hadn't she left him for an entire year? Why was he the only one in the doghouse for all of this shit? He wanted something to make him feel better, to make him feel _less bad_.

No matter what attempts he made to justify things in his head, none of it worked. He didn't even know how long this delicate peace would last. Denise hadn't even vocalized half of the anger he knew that she was feeling, that she had every right to feel. Everyone looked at him with such disdain and disgust for having hurt Denise, for having betrayed Denise when she had done so much for the club - but Denise wouldn't even look at him at all. He wanted her to swing, he wanted for it to be simple as her beating the shit out of him and saying that he'd gotten right with her. But she wasn't like them. She was different, and Juice had always loved that about her - he wished he hadn't forgotten that.

Denise had grown extremely tired in recent days, even though she rarely left the house. Jax had kept a reasonable distance from her, not calling or showing up with the boys because he knew her family needed fixing. Thinking that maybe if he kept extending the olive branch that eventually she might accept it, Juice decided to head back home for lunch. Maybe enough gestures of affection and genuine remorse would eventually chip away at her resolve. However, when he got off of his bike in front of his house, he realized that there was already someone standing on the front porch - Denise had apparently just opened the front door to see Wendy Case of all people standing in front of her. Juice hung back, just out of sight, fearing the worst. If Jax had been keeping Wendy from seeing the boys, Wendy wouldn't be in a good place to talk to anyone, let alone Denise - and this could be bad. This could be very bad.

"Sofia, go play, baby," Denise said, putting her daughter down and shooing her back inside the house before turning back to face Wendy with a stern expression on her face.

"Can we talk, Deedee?"

"If I say no, will you leave?"

"No," Wendy said. "No, I won't."

Absolutely, definitely bad, Juice thought to himself, feeling his heart beating faster and faster as he strained to listen to the conversation. But if he came and broke it up, it would get worse. More feelings would get hurt. Wendy couldn't possibly do more damage, Juice convinced himself. Maybe she was here to apologize, or to explain that what happened had been nothing.

"I really care about him."

Juice gulped as he stood by and overheard the words, powerless now to do anything about it.

"That's nice," Denise said stiffly. "You can -"

"I'm not trying to steal your ol' man, Deedee -"

"Don't call him my ol' man. He's my husband," Denise hissed, her tone suddenly turning frigid and vindictive. "Something that you don't have."

Wendy winced, and her jaw clenched for a moment before she managed to reply, "You don't get it do you?" Denise didn't answer immediately, and Wendy took the opportunity to continue. "You and Jax, you're both doing the same thing to Juice and me - stringing us along, keeping us in the dark. Your world revolves around these little bullshit plans you two have," Wendy sneered. "But me and Juice..."

"You and Juice what?"

Wendy paid no heed to the fact that Denise's expression looked almost murderous, and pressed on. "Maybe... maybe while you and Jax finish whatever business you two got, Juice and I - we could be there for each other. We could make each other happy -"

The only response Wendy received to her proposal was a hard slap across the face that sent her stumbling to the floor of the front porch, with Denise rubbing her reddened palm and breathing hard - admittedly, it came as a relief that she'd now gotten the opportunity to slap them both. But Wendy had stooped to a new low. She wanted to borrow Juice. Denise sneered in disgust for the woman in front of her.

"Get off my front porch before I slap you so hard that you won't see your teeth again until you're shitting them out."

Wendy got to her feet and gave a derisive laugh, shaking her head. "No wonder Jax gets along so well with you," she retorted. "You sound just like his mother."

She walked away from the house, leaving Denise stunned and disgusted at the door, shaking her head for a moment before retreating inside and shutting the door behind her.

Juice felt like he was going to be sick - he was afraid of going inside, truth be told. But maybe if he talked to her now, if he tried to fix it, then everything would be fine. He finally made his way to his house, into the front door, finding his wife sitting on the couch tiredly as she watched their daughter hobble around the floor. He paused behind her, waiting for acknowledgment. When it didn't come, Juice moved around the furniture in the living room to sit down next to her, leaning over to meet her eyes.

"Tell your little girlfriend not to show her face at my door again," she said, unable to look at him. "Next time you -"

"There's never gonna be a next time," Juice said desperately. "I haven't even talked to her since - since -"

"Oh, gee, thanks," Denise interrupted, rolling her eyes. "You haven't fucked her again since you guys got found out, praise Jesus!"

Juice winced - he knew it was bad because Denise actually used the word, the whole profanity, in front of their daughter, even though she lowered her voice considerably when she did it. She didn't spell out the word. She didn't use a cute substitute. Juice hung his head, feeling the weight of his shame growing with every second he sat in front of his wife, even while Sofia played around with her toys without a clue in the world. Denise was so good at keeping the tone of her voice calm, even when her words were venom - Sofia would be none the wiser.

"I don't get what this is," Juice admitted with choked, tearful laugh that was more frantic than humorous. "I don't know what we're doing here, baby -"

"What's there to know? What's there to get?" Denise asked, finally locking eyes with her husband and revealing the still bitter, angry glare that seemed now permanently set in her eyes. "I'm in this house with you because I'm trying not to wreck our daughter's family, because she deserves better than that," she said furiously. "I'm doing my best, but -"

"But it doesn't work if you can't forgive me."

"Well, I don't know if I can."

Juice recoiled, his face contorting as he strove to keep from crying. Denise wasn't crying. She was cold, like ice, like stone. His jaw clenched, and he felt his hands starting to shake. He had nothing to counter that, he couldn't give her a reason that she should forgive him because he knew he had done everything wrong. Every choice he had made since getting those drinks with Wendy had been wrong. But as selfish as it was, he wanted to be forgiven. He wanted things to be right again, and whether or not Juice had a right to feel the way he did, it made him feel angry that Denise couldn't forgive him, that she couldn't just take her anger out on him and be done with it.

She didn't even know if she could forgive him. This, he realized, felt ten times worse than that day in the diner with Chibs. Her words were so much less harsh, and yet they made Juice wish he could just shrivel up on the spot. If she couldn't forgive him... then what was the point? He stood up and paced back and forth a few times, then got up and left.

Denise sighed and got back to her feet, walking over to pick up Sofia to give her a bath - but already, she found her hands shaking slightly, her body feeling stiff, the back of her neck tightening as though it was in knots. She had been doing so well in recent weeks, she thought that the after-effects of the incident - the headaches, the pains, the clumsiness - were finally gone altogether. However, she felt a familiar ache set into her forehead, just behind her eyes as she put Sofia down for a nap.

* * *

><p>Juice returned to TM after lunch and could hardly even keep track of what he was supposed to be doing. Two hours and one pair of oil-splattered cover-alls later, Jax finally walked up to him with his arms crossed.<p>

"You went back home."

"Yeah, I did," Juice retorted. "Lunch break."

"Somethin' happen?"

"Maybe it did, but it ain't any of your business," Juice said, his gaze averted down to his boots. "This is my family, Jax -"

"Yeah, and that's why you should be _with_ them. G'home," Jax interrupted, shaking his head. "Go home to your wife and your little girl, aight?"

Jax knew how this went. He'd been in this place before, the place where everything seemed just on the brink of falling apart. Jax knew this place well, because he'd teetered here with Tara for a long time. Years, even. Granted, he was pissed at Juice for screwing up so badly - and a part of was angry because of all the people Juice could screw up with, it was Wendy. But Jax felt for the guy, maybe because after over a year of being friends with Denise, he understood Tara a little more now. He understood the sacrifice a wife and mom made in juggling her family with a husband in the club.

Juice, however, couldn't stand the thought of going home and being on the receiving end of that look again. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the silent reminder, every second he spent inside of his own home, that he was a failure and a traitor. So he took off on his bike and just drove. Juice knew he would be gone for hours, clear until dark if he needed to. He just couldn't go home - not to that.

Jax was none the wiser - he assumed that Juice had left and done as he'd advised, gone home to his family. So, when he finished up his shift at TM and drove home to shower before picking up his boys at Lyla's, he was perplexed by the sight of Denise's car parked by his driveway. Once he'd swung his leg over his bike and taken off his helmet, he walked over and rapped his knuckles on the window of the driver's seat, where he saw her sitting with her eyes closed. She tiredly opened them and rolled down her window.

"Where's Juice at?" she groaned. Jax's jaw tightened briefly, and he shook his head in disdain when he realized that his advice clearly hadn't been followed, and judging by the sick look on Denise's face, it couldn't have come at a worse time. "He left in a hurry after that little scene Wendy caused at home -"

"Wendy?" Jax asked, his expression souring. "What was Wendy doin' at your place?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Denise asked, raising an eyebrow and managing to sneer a little bit at the memory of the conversation which had probably triggered her headache to begin with. "Showed up at my door and said that since you're too busy for her that she and Juice should _make each other happy_ while we're so busy."

"Jesus Christ," Jax said in a voice that sounded almost like a cough. "Dee, she never told me any of this shit. I had no idea," he shrugged.

"My head's getting started - I took my meds, but it's not helping much," she admitted, looking almost embarrassed by the fact that she wasn't feeling well. Jax honored her obvious desire to change the subject. Truth be told, it didn't matter to either of them why Juice and Wendy had slept together. Not now, anyway. "I - I was lookin' for him to make sure Fifi wasn't alone if it got worse."

It took all the tact that Jax could muster not to tell Denise that she was a fucking mess. Her hair was tied back into a sloppy bun, and it only made it more clear how pale she was, how dark the circles under her eyes had gotten. She probably hadn't slept well in days...

"Get inside," he nodded. "Go lay down in the guest room, I'll take Sofia with me to go pick up Abel and Tommy -"

"But Juice -"

"I sent him home early, told him to go back to you two," Jax said carefully. He almost wished he'd just covered for the guy, even if just for Denise's sake. She was still not back to perfect health no matter how much she pretended to be, and the last thing she probably needed was to hear was that her husband had run off without a trace. Denise shut her eyes again and let out a pained groan, digging the heels of her hands gently into the edges of her eye sockets.

"I'll be fine in a couple of hours, take this for now," she said, reaching the car keys out to Jax through the window before opening the door and stepping out so he could get in and use the car to pick up the boys. In turn, he reached into his pocket and tossed her his house keys, which she nearly dropped.

"Holla' if you need anythin'," Jax said with a nod as he buckled into the passenger seat. "Fifi's safe with Uncle Jackie. No worries."

"I know," Denise said, forcing at least a small lopsided grin before heading towards the house. "Thanks, Jax."

"Can't refuse a favor for Aunt Deedee. Abel'd kill me."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Man. The tension is starting to really get to me, just writing the chapters. The next chapter is going to see things come to a bit of a boiling point, and also step away from the relationship turmoil briefly, because the world doesn't stop turning just for a few broken hearts. _

_Thank you again for all of your reviews! Just keep powering through the angst. It'll be worth it, I promise! Until next update, cheers!_


	30. Chapter 30

Despite her insistence that the headache would be kicked and she'd be back on her feet within a couple of hours, Denise woke up the next morning by herself in the guest bedroom at the Teller home, having gotten the most restful night of sleep that she'd had in weeks. She'd slept straight through the night and clear until it was light out, and Jax, to his credit, had somehow managed to watch all three of the resident SAMCRO rugrats - Abel, Tommy, and Sofia - and keep them from disturbing her all night. So, when she stirred and stretched her way out to the kitchen, she found them all sitting at the table for breakfast, with Abel very responsibly trying to feed Sofia, who sat in one of Tommy's old high chairs.

"Hey, buddy, you can put a little more food on the spoon than that," Jax nodded at him while he reached over and cut up the scrambled eggs on Tommy's Monsters Inc. plate. Denise gave a chuckle, crossing her arms over herself as she watched Jax actually playing Daddy - he'd come a long way, for sure. He'd sure as hell been trying to do a better job of juggling the club and his family.

If only, Denise thought with a slight souring of her expression, Wendy had seen that too.

Jax looked up at Denise and nodded in greeting, glancing over at Abel. "Hey, buddy," he began gently. "You think you can be the boss of the breakfast table while I talk to Aunt Deedee for a second?"

"Yeah," Abel said with an enthusiastic nod. "Nothin' bad's gonna happen to the kiddos. Promise."

"That's my boy," Jax chuckled, getting up from his chair and leaning over to kiss the side of his older son's hair before he walked over and gestured for Denise to follow him into the living room, where they took a seat on the couch next to each other. "How you holdin' up?" he asked. Denise gave a weak laugh, shrugging her shoulders.

"Feeling better. Rested," she answered. "I guess everything was just a little -"

"Too much?" Jax supplied. "Can't blame you."

"It just all went to shit at the same time," she said, her laugh turning sad as the corners of her mouth tugged downwards into a slight grimace. "I never expected this to happen. And not with - well, you know -"

"With Wendy. Yeah," Jax nodded, his voice lowering into almost a whisper. "I didn't either. I thought she got it. Her and Juice both. I thought they got that you and me had to put our heads together on this one, that we've gotta be... partners, y'know? But I guess..."

Jax's voice trailed off, as though the sentence was weighed down by his weariness - a weariness that he hadn't even said anything about. He, too, felt betrayed. He, too, felt like two people he trusted had stabbed him in the back. He chuckled throatily, shaking his head. And it ached to admit that even after everything, every perceived wrong he felt Juice had committed, he had come to trust the guy because now, he felt like they had something in common. The man was a friend - and that made this all the worse.

"Just the last thing either of needs right now, y'know?" he said with a sad grin. "Like we're paddlin' up a creek, dealin' with all of this Marks shit, and all of a sudden they take the oars away."

"I know," Denise nodded with a heaving sigh. "Trust me. I know."

"You're the only thing that's been, you know... stable," he admitted, pausing and running his hand over his mouth as he, too, let out a heaving breath. "Maybe that's how it's supposed to be," he shrugged. "Maybe..."

This time, when his voice trailed off, he looked up at Denise, and Denise knew that look - his eyes glinting with something that she never expected to see from him. It was probably the loneliness, the sense of kinship that came with being betrayed in the exact same way. Maybe it was the sense of needing to feel like there was something in all the chaos that could be constant, and that's what Denise had been since the moment she first set foot in Charming. Jax's lips quirked into a lopsided grin as he stared at Denise with that strange, wanton expression. She looked down and saw his hand slowly, almost imperceptibly moving over the couch towards her, and Denise raised her eyebrow in response, letting out a snort of a chuckle.

"Don't even go there," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I know how you think, Jax - and when you're hurt, you start thinkin' with the wrong head. You're hurt," she repeated for emphasis, reaching over and squeezing his hand. "We don't need to fuck things up worse by having a - a _revenge_ thing."

Jax bristled slightly - it wasn't intentional, truly. It was reflex. He didn't know how to deal with hurt like this, with a sense of loss. It had always been this way with Tara, him getting driven into some other's woman's bed because he couldn't deal. Had he really started with Denise? Of all people?

"That Teller charm doesn't work on me Jax. Be grateful," she smirked, patting the back of his hand again. "I'm gonna go."

"Yeah," he said with a laugh that sounded genuinely embarrassed, shaking his head and looking down at the floor. "You're right. You good drivin'?"

"I'll be fine," Denise nodded with a grin. "Thanks, Jax."

* * *

><p>The black wig and the big glasses felt a little 'Pulp Fiction' for Gemma's liking, but if she playing dress-up and chaffeuring Charles Kwan around was the only way she had to get out of the loft where she was holed up with Jarry, she'd take the free pass.<p>

Driving the sedan that had now become Marks' trademark felt strangely thrilling, Gemma realized. Something like being a spy - she hadn't had something that genuinely thrilled her in a long time, and for the first time, she wondered if maybe existing for herself, not being pathologically dedicated to the interests of her boys, could be good for her. They were driving out to meet with the Mayor of Charming, Deacon Bollinger, at a restaurant in Palo Alto, as far from Charming as one could get - in atmosphere, even if not in distance.

Charles Kwan didn't speak, and Gemma found that strangely unsettling. She'd hardly heard him ever speak a sentence, which was far from what she had expected from Denise's brother. Denise's personality hit you like a ton of bricks, while Charles could very well have been part of the furniture in any room he entered. And he was supposed to be the evil one? He was supposed to be the mastermind?

Gemma smirked a little to herself as she drove. Denise would've made an amazing bad guy if she'd wanted to be one.

"So you and August went to that fair in Charming. Your sister's shindig," Gemma piped up, attempting to get the man to talk because talking came as second nature to her. "Saw it on the news. Deedee pulled all that off?"

"Doing what she does best. Making a bigger mess," Charles said sternly, still looking straight forward at the road. "Denise never knew how to stop stirring things up. But she'll be too preoccupied to repeat a stunt like that for a good while, I'm sure."

Gemma's grip tightened unconsciously on the steering wheel. "You do somethin' to her? You and Marks?"

"No. Just had a talk with her," Charles said blankly, reaching up to straighten his paisley necktie. "It's her husband who's out of check."

"What'd Juice do?" Gemma asked, her brow furrowing. She'd willed herself to stop worrying about what was happening in Charming, because Charming had clearly stopped caring about her, but when it came to the club and the people who had once been closest to her, old habits were difficult to break. Charles gave a chuckle, though how humored he truly felt about the revelation was unclear.

"Caught him giving a little unnecessary mouth-to-mouth to another woman. Dirty blonde, scrappy thing -"

"Wendy," Gemma muttered in a hushed tone. "Jesus Christ. How is she dealing with -"

"I don't know. She left. So did I," Charles interrupted before she could finish her question. "But I don't imagine that she's doing well."

There was a strain to his voice, and Gemma knew it well because the emotion she suspected was behind it was the same one that plagued her any time that Denise Ortiz came up in a conversation. She loved that girl - she had hurt her, but not out of hate. It was just circumstances, was all. And Denise of all people could be counted on to be more forgiving than the other forces pushing up on them. They had both hurt her, but they still loved her. Perhaps they didn't love her right, but they still loved her.

Moreover, the idea of Juice and Wendy disgusted her - the two most unstable she knew, two people who were complete wrecks on their own and constantly needed the approval and support of other people in order to keep on the right course. Maybe, she realized, she should have seen it coming. They were trainwrecks.

With a brief, sidelong glance at Charles who had slumped slightly into the passenger seat, Gemma realized how weary he looked as well - it wasn't just the cane that made him look ten times older, and here Gemma had thought Asians didn't age.

"You don't wanna be doing this anymore either, do you, sweetheart?" she asked knowingly, seeing the thread and grabbing hold. This was what she did. She found the holes. She worked them to her own needs. "You don't wanna be Marks' lapdog."

"What I want no longer makes a difference," Charles said stiffly, as though he had rehearsed the response to himself many times before. "I have no choice."

"Course you do," Gemma said matter-of-factly. "Your sister did."

"Yes, and look at her life now."

"Look at yours."

No one, Gemma realized, must have ever put it into perspective for Charles in quite that way - the man fell silent, his eyes still trained on the road, which was becoming more and more lined with buildings and stores that heralded their impending arrival at their destination. He wanted to believe that he was acting out of self-preservation, that he was ensuring a good life from himself - he needed to believe that he had made the better choice, and that his sister had been wrong in hers.

But his sister had something to fight for. His sister still had something to lose. Charles knew better than to believe he had a purpose - his only purpose was to try and survive.

"Showtime, Charlie," Gemma spoke up as she pulled up to a parking space in front of the Coupa Cafe - it was a bustling location, and while at first consideration, it seemed counter intuitive, it was perhaps the perfect place for a meet. There were too many other people around for anyone to care about them. Through the window, they saw Deacon Bollinger already inside waiting. They both got out of the sedan, and Gemma extended an arm to Charles, who still walked with his cane. Since no one knew who she was here - since she wasn't queen of anything at all - she could very well pass as his caregiver or something. Mayor Bollinger, however, recognized her even with her disguise, and he bristled slightly at the sight of her when she and Charles took a seat at the table across from her.

"Mayor," Charles said in a stiff, formal tone as he rested his cane against the side of the table. "August sent me to tell you that he's very displeased about that little rally that happened under your watch - bad PR, you see -"

"I had no idea that they were planning anything like that," he said, his voice straining against his vocal cords as he felt very much like a small mouse cornered by two alley cats. "It will not happen again, I can assure you. New city ordinance I'm pushing through -"

"We don't honestly care what you do to stop it, as long as it's stopped," Charles spoke up. Though, he thought inwardly, his sister's plan had been a brilliant one. A sharp one. Even if the event was never repeated, the damage was already done. Bollinger, however, took the brief silence to finally glance over at Gemma, who shot him a fearless smirk, knowing he could do nothing to her. He couldn't even throw the book at her for not being in a mental hospital like she was supposed to be, because it would bring up too many questions. Why was she in the same place as you? What about August Marks?

"What's she doing here?" he asked, attempting to remain calm, though he was visibly unsettled when Charles continued to silently stare him down, not even dignifying his question with an answer. Bollinger was their pawn, and pawns weren't entitled to answers.

"Nice to see you too, Deacon," Gemma responded, leaning towards him with her forearms resting at the edge of the table. "Good chat."

There was little left to be said in the exchange, and Charles and Gemma had soon gotten up from the small table, heading back to the car. It was only when they were back on the road that Gemma spoke up again.

"What kinda hold do you have on the mayor?" she inquired. But Charles didn't answer. Gemma didn't need to be privy to that information because she, too, was still little more than a pawn.

For now, anyway.

* * *

><p>The reversal was an awkward one when Denise got back home with Sofia, now coming across Juice on the couch, having apparently been waiting for her. She rolled her eyes slightly - where had he been when she needed him?<p>

Juice got to his feet and looked at Denise, who only spared him a brief glance before bringing Sofia over to the nursery. She always napped after breakfast and was already growing drowsy as they walked through the door, so Denise went to go put her down in her own bed for a brief round of shut-eye before she returned to the living room to face Juice.

"What are you lookin' at me like that for?" Denise asked.

"Where were you last night?"

The tone of Juice's voice oozed annoyance - suspicion, even - and Denise again felt her blood boiling just looking at him. He was accusing her of something? When she'd outright refused the very thing that she knew was running through her head? Now, for the first time, she felt a surge of spite - a desire to make him feel, even for a moment, a little bit of what she'd been feeling for the past week.

"I just came from Jax's place," she said, crossing her arms and shooting her husband a defiant glance. Juice's upper lip curled in disgust, and he threw his hands out to the sides, taking a step closer to Denise.

"Wow. Went and took our daughter with you, too, huh?" he said angrily, eliciting a dark, disbelieving laugh from Denise. "Couldn't just -"

"I went to Jax's place because I was sick and you weren't here," Denise interrupted, her face contorted into a scowl. "Because you walked out on me when I needed you, again, and I'm not even gonna ask where you went -"

"Where I _went_? I told you - I fuckin' told you, what happened with Wendy is never happenin' again!" Juice defended, his face drawing closer to Denise's as his voice rose in volume. "I'm not the one who spent the house at someone else's -"

"Don't even," Denise snarled angrily. "Don't even go there, because the difference between us is that I didn't _fuck_ him!" Denise said, her voice rising in volume as well despite her promise to herself that as long as Sofia was in the house with them, it would never come to this. This, she realized, was the situation completely boiling over. "I needed help, Juice, and you weren't there. What part of this do you not get?"

"How are we supposed to fix anythin' this way, Dee?" Juice practically yelled, scratching the back of his neck furiously. "Yeah, you stayed! Great, now what? You won't look at me, you won't talk me, you won't even -"

"Boo fucking hoo, Juice! Excuse me for still being pissed at you a whole two weeks after finding out you fucked another woman!" she said with a shrill, humorless laugh. "I needed you! I've always been strong for you, I've been everything you needed me to be. I needed you to be the strong one for once -"

"I didn't want our family to have any part of this shit!" Juice yelled back. "We coulda stayed out of it, let Jax handle the shit with Marks and Charles -"

"Charles! _My_ brother!" Denise groaned, shaking her head at Juice in disbelief. "If we don't clean this shit up, it doesn't just blow back on Jax, it doesn't just blow back on the club, it blows back on _me_! Do you care about protecting me? Our family?"

Denise's breaths came out in fevered pants now, and Juice felt himself struggle for a response - of course he cared, he wanted to say. But how could he finish that statement? He'd fallen short, and he knew it. As much as he cared, he hadn't _done_ enough.

"You think if we just stayed out of it, they'd just forget we existed?" Denise asked tiredly. "You think we coulda made a run for it? You think I want to live the rest of our lives looking over our shoulder to see if somebody's after us? You think we coulda just left those skeletons in the closet and hoped they never came out?"

"And what we're doin' now is any better?"

"This isn't because of me and Jax - don't throw this back at me," Denise hissed. "Because me and Jax? Yeah, we spent a lot of time together - because we needed to. But he kept his dick where it fucking belonged, unlike you!"

Denise flinched when Juice's muscular arms made a sudden movement, rising to about chest level with clenched fists before he quickly stopped himself. He would never hurt her. Never. No matter how angry he was at her, at himself, he would never - but it was too late for Denise not to see what his unusual movements meant.

"Do it," she said calmly, reaching up and swatting his fists away. "Go ahead. Do it."

"Dee, you know I'd never -"

"No," Denise interrupted. "Don't say it. Don't say, 'you know I'd never hurt you' because you have. You already have and - and -" She paused, feeling her chest tighten as the weight of the words coming out of her mouth really hit her. She reached up and wiped at her eyes. "We can't do this. You and me. We can't be like this in front of Sofia... I tried _so_ hard, but -"

"Denise, no," Juice said weakly. "Come on, I'm sorry."

"So am I," she said, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head. "But I can't be here with you. Not like this. I'm - I'm gonna go stay at Nero's for a while."

Juice's arms fell slack at his sides while he stared at his wife in disbelief - she stood there shaking for only a few seconds before retreating to the bedroom, where Juice could hear the sound of bags zipping and unzipping, drawers sliding open and thudding shut. This was the price of what he'd done. This was the price of one mistake. He had practically asked for this, letting himself get into that mess with Wendy, and now all he could do was watch them go.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Sort of deja vu all over again, with Denise taking a little breathing room. I actually went back and forth about whether or not to change this chapter as far and Jax/Denise, because there was a lot of will they/won't they speculation. So, the ultimate answer is no, but Jax was on the borderline of making a move because, as Denise said, he was thinking with his head. Surprise, surprise! But alas, two wrongs don't make a right, and I think it felt more true to both of their characters to shut that down before anything happened between them. I hope you all feel that way too!_

_As always, I love hearing from you guys! The upcoming chapters are requiring more massaging than I'd first expected, just because I'm changing how I split them up, so there might be a couple extra days between updates compared to usual. I'm trying my best to keep them fairly frequent, though! Until next time, cheers!_


	31. Chapter 31

Nero thought that Juice Ortiz, in many very important ways, was an idiot - not a bad person, but an idiot, because the two were very different things. A bad person did bad things. An idiot did the _wrong_ things, though not always for the wrong reasons. He had forgiven Juice, to some extent, for Darvany because he knew what Jax could drive a person to, but it didn't change the fact that he thought Juice still had a long way to go as far as building up a bit of a spine. Still, he couldn't help but notice that in the week that Denise had been staying in his guest room with Sofia, she didn't seem like herself without him. She didn't cry - she hadn't done so even once since she had arrived. But not crying wasn't the problem - Nero knew that Denise was probably all cried out. The problem was, she didn't do much of anything else either.

For better or worse, the Denise Nero knew usually tried to pretend to be happy, at least - this Denise wasn't that girl, and he felt his fatherly concern for her grow as he realized just how much the ordeal had taken out of her. She couldn't put on the brave front she used to anymore. Denise would feed Sofia, but hardly eat anything herself. She would put her to bed and stay up all night. So, Nero had a very paternal impulse to stand in the doorway and keep her from leaving when she said that she had a photoshoot to do out in Napa.

"You're exhausted, chinita," Nero chided, crossing his arms while Denise scurried around the living room of his place shoving her things into her camera bag. "You're probably about two cups of coffee away from a meltdown, and it'll take at least three to get you through the day. Napa, chinita. And if you take the 4 out that way, that's a couple hours," he said, as though repeating the location would somehow knock some sense into her. "Lemme drive you, I'll handle Fifi for the day -"

"No," Denise said, not looking up from preparing her bag. "I - I'm gonna bring Sofia by her daddy's place. See if she could use a little papi time."

Nero's shoulders sagged - it was heartbreaking that Denise couldn't even say her husband's name because it hurt so much, but he gave her credit that she'd thought to bring their baby over. It was the right thing to do, and he had to hand it to her. Denise tried her best to do what was right, even if it tore her up. At this point, though, it started to feel like Denise was hurting herself even more than anyone else was.

"Alright, mami," he said, walking over and giving the younger woman's shoulders a fond squeeze. "He should be free all day anyway. No runs lined up until tomorrow -"

"Tomorrow?" Denise answered shrilly, suddenly turning with her brow furrowed. "What's going on tomorrow? No one told me..."

Her voice trailed off. She had been here at Nero's place for about 5 days now, and had tried her best to keep her distance from anything in a kutte. There was no one who could've told her anyway. She sighed and shook her head, but Nero knew better - knew that whatever the case, she still worried.

"Mayans need a few extra bodies pulling security on the way to Chico," Nero explained, knowing that she would be too proud to ask for answers. "Alvarez is pickin' up a load there, gonna have a talk with a supplier about taking their business away from the Niners -"

"Niners?" Denise asked, her voice catching in her throat. "Aren't they -"

"Black. Working for Marks," Nero nodded. "I know. It's sloppy, chinita, but you can't say anythin'. You're not supposed to be part of this -"

"I know," Denise nodded. "I - I'm gonna go bring Sofia over there."

Denise didn't know why it bothered her so much that she hadn't known a thing about this - granted, it wasn't directly related to her, but she wasn't used to being so out of the loop. She loathed it. She resented it. Still, she put on the calmest face that she could muster when she pulled Sofia out of her carseat and made her way to the door.

"You there?" she called out, feeling too awkward to knock or ring her own doorbell. There was the sound of shuffling and Juice pulled the door open in seconds, staring at them in awe. Denise ached, knowing that he was hoping they were really back, when they weren't. She sighed, shifting and holding Sofia out towards him. The little girl squealed and babbled excitedly, reaching her tiny hands towards her daddy and wriggling until he took her from Denise's arms. "I've got a shoot out in Napa so I'm gonna be gone all day. She - she misses you," Denise shrugged. Juice smiled a little bit while he held his daughter and the little girl gently bopped his nose with her little fist. Denise felt herself smile in spite of herself.

"D'you have - uh, breakfast or anything?" Juice asked, nodding inside. "You wanna eat something before you head out?"

"Nah," Denise refused, unable to meet his gaze. "Just didn't want to bring Fifi all the way out there, I'm in a little bit of a rush. You're not... expecting anyone, are you?"

The question slipped out before Denise could help herself, and Juice flinched slightly, knowing the accusation that lingered behind the question. "No - no, just me and Fifi," Juice said, nodding fervently. "Thanks for this, Dee."

"You're her daddy, you're not gonna get out of watching her," she said with a lopsided grin. Juice laughed weakly as well and nodded.

"I can - make dinner? Somethin'?" Juice asked hopefully, and Denise tensed visibly. She didn't genuinely know if she was okay with dinner, with being around him for more than a few moments at a time. But was it right to make a choice out of spite? Didn't Sofia deserve for them to be civil? Friends, even? Dinner was small, no matter how awkward it turned out to be. A few uncomfortable hours was a small price to pay for a night of her daughter having a full family. _This isn't about me_, Denise had to remind herself. _This isn't about me_.

"Maybe a quick dinner," Denise nodded, and she had to fight the twinge of something in her heart at the smile that broke over Juice's face at her small concession. "I'll try to be back around six. Maybe seven, depending on the weather."

"Yeah. Okay," Juice nodded. "You, uh - drive safe."

"Yeah. I will."

As she drove away, Denise wasn't sure how she felt about the way things had gone - the first conversation she'd had with Juice since leaving the house was probably long overdue, but she hadn't felt anywhere near prepared. Her resolve wavered. This didn't feel natural, holding out on forgiving him, but she couldn't get the taste of betrayal out of her mouth. It was too much.

Moreover, the thought plagued her for the whole day that more than anything, she wanted to forgive him. She wanted all of this to go away so she could have her family back, because her family was all that she had. Denise needed to be working right now, she needed to be out and completely focused on taking photos at this wedding because it kept her mind from wandering places she didn't want it to go. But every time she saw the bride and groom smiling at each other through the viewfinder on her camera, she felt a small twinge of sadness. They were happy. They were getting a happily ever after and she wasn't, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

It was already dark when Denise pulled back into Charming on the way back home from Napa - traffic had been torturous, and highway patrol had been out in full force, so the drive took nearly an hour longer than it should have. It was almost eight o'clock when Denise managed to get back to the house, and she knocked gently on the door.

"Lookit, princess - mommy's home!" Juice's voice came from inside, followed by a loud, happy squeal from Sofia - Denise couldn't help but smile, and she was still smiling when Juice came to the door carrying their daughter, whose face was smudged with the evidence that he had obviously let her get into some kind of fruits. Following Denise's discerning, motherly gaze, Juice reached up to wipe Sofia's face. "Sorry - she was getting grabby at the food while I was cooking so I cut her up some strawberries to keep her busy."

"It looks like Fifi had a facial, huh? Did Fifi have a spa day with Daddy?" Denise said, reaching over and giving in to the impulse to just squish her daughter's cheeks a little bit. "Do you still have room for dinner, sweetie? Are you still hungry?"

"I made lasagna," Juice spoke up suddenly, and Denise glanced over and saw that Juice had gone all out, set the table with Sofia's high chair between two regular chairs. She took a deep breath and forced a small smile, going over to take a seat.

It crossed her mind that they'd never had dinner like this back when things were okay - they'd never sat the table at the end of a long day like this, the way Denise had always had dinner growing up. The next thought that crossed her mind was the memory that Juice was, in fact, a pretty good cook.

What hurt the most was that he was trying so hard - Denise knew that he was sorry, and that he genuinely wanted things to be okay again. Denise wanted to be ready. She wanted to be able to do this. But dinner was all she could swing right now. The table was uncomfortably silent, and Denise groped mentally for something to say - something. Anything.

"So," she began. "Nero told me about that... that thing."

"What?"

"The thing," Denise said vaguely. "Tomorrow. With, you know. With them. For the club."

Juice took a moment to pick up on the fact that Denise was talking about the run to Chico, and that she was just trying not to talk about it in any specific terms in front of Sofia. Juice cleared his throat and shrugged.

"I guess I just never got a chance to let you know," he explained. "Since, you know..."

"I know," Denise nodded, looking down at her food and taking another bite. "Well, be careful out there."

"You mean that?" Juice asked suddenly, looking genuinely surprised that Denise had mentioned it. She gave him a lopsided grin and nodded.

"Course I do," she answered. "I know - I know Sofia won't want anything bad happening to her Daddy, and... and I..."

And I what? Denise cleared her throat and looked away again, but Juice felt a sense of peace at the fact that she was at least concerned about him, about his safety on a run. It was tempting to press her further, to get her to give him a little more, but a part of him felt like he still didn't deserve it. Still, the conversation caused a crack in the floodgates and he looked up from his own plate at Denise, but before he opened his mouth to speak, Denise beath him to it.

"Call when you get back," she said suddenly, her face going slightly red. "I - I wanna bring Sofia over again. She misses you and your snoring."

"What about you?" Juice couldn't help but ask. "Do you miss me?"

Denise looked up at him sadly, and Juice realized that maybe he had pushed it a little too far. Things had been going so well, and he had to go and do this again, because he couldn't be happy with what he was getting out of Denise, that they were at least around one another without being completely at one another's throats. She sighed quietly and shrugged.

"I don't think this is a good time to talk about it," Denise said weakly. "Just - be safe out there is all I'm asking."

"Course I will," Juice nodded. "I'll always come back for my girls."

Denise, for whatever reason felt a familiar pressure behind her eyes upon hearing the words come out of Juice's mouth because it was true. No matter how bad he messed up, he always came back home to them, always remembered that he had to keep them safe. Denise knew that between the two of them, she was the runner - Juice ran off to clear his head more often, but Denise knew that she harbored more ill feelings, left more destruction in her wake. But what was she supposed to do when it hurt like this? She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"Thanks for dinner," Denise said with a tilt at one corner of her lips that was only a shadow of a smile. "We should do it again soon."

"Yeah," Juice said, mirroring her expression. "Whenever you want."

After helping clean up, Denise looked over to find that Sofia was sleeping, so she scooped the little girl into her arms to bring her out to the car, but not before Juice gestured for her to bring Fifi closer so he could say bye.

"Bye-bye, princess," Juice said, leaning over and kissing his sleeping daughter's forehead. "Daddy just needs a kiss for good luck tomorrow, aight?"

Denise's breath caught in her throat, having Juice leaning so close to her to kiss Sofia goodnight, and she fought back the need to gulp until she had gotten a few steps away from him, heading down the driveway to her car.

Having dinner with Juice had been so surreal, it was unsettling, and Denise harbored that same feeling through the night after she'd gotten back to Nero's, and all the way into the next morning. She spent the entire day on her computer, editing photos while Nero played with Sofia - Denise teased him that Diosa couldn't run itself, and Nero retorted that it probably could.

The day went by in a blur - Denise, in all honesty, hardly even felt time pass. Before she knew it, it was already dark out and she was still working on photos, long after Nero had put Sofia to bed.

"Told you this mornin'. Coffee ain't a substitute for sleep, Chinita," Nero said, raising his eyebrows chidingly before he went to bed himself. "You finish up."

"Yeah. Right," Denise laughed half-heartedly. She wasn't sure she had any intention of sleeping just yet. She sat in the same spot, firmly attached to her laptop and still working on photos until her eyes felt like they couldn't stare at the screen for another second. She was half-convinced to maybe follow Nero's advice until she saw a pair of headlights outside of the window. Brow furrowing in concern, she looked up at the clock. Who would be pulling up here at two in the morning? Feeling her heartbeat grow faster and fluttery, she reached over to her bag on the other end of the couch and pulled out the pocketknife she had grown accustomed to keeping inside.

She walked carefully over to the door but breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that it was Lyla's car. However, when Denise opened the door to ask her friend what she was doing here so late, the blonde woman didn't give her a chance to speak - she just grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her towards the car.

"Easy there," Denise laughed nervously. "What are you -"

"Deedee, you gotta come with me, quick," Lyla said, her voice tired and nervous. Denise was about to launch into her usual string of questioning when she glanced towards Lyla's car and saw someone else sitting in the back seat. Wendy was in the car too.

"Whoa," Denise said, yanking her arm away from Lyla with a disparaged expression. "What's she doing here?"

"It's not just her, the boys are in there with her," Lyla said, waving her hand dismissively and pulling Denise towards the car still. "It's the guys - the meet went south, got crashed by the Niners -"

"What?" Denise snapped, finally giving in and allowing Lyla to pull her to the car. Denise didn't even acknowledge Wendy's presence with a greeting, only bothering to stare at Lyla with a wide-eyed, confused expression. Wendy, on her part, had nothing to say anyway, instead busying herself with looking at Abel sleeping with his head in her lap, and Thomas in his seat."What are you talking about?"

"Everyone's back in one piece," Lyla explained, realizing that she'd just made Denise even more frantic. "But some of them are in pretty bad shape - it got messy," Lyla said, shaking her head.

If a few minutes ago, Denise's heart had been fluttering, now it was pounding. There was only one reason why Lyla would come to get her in such a hurry.

"You idiot," she muttered to herself as Lyla started down the road to the hospital. Denise's mind was racing with the countless things that could have happened. "I told you to be careful..."

"Juice isn't doing so hot," Lyla said carefully, grimacing as she saw Denise flinch from the corner of her eye. "I don't know the details but - I think he needs you."

"And her?" Denise couldn't help but ask with a slight sneer with a nod towards the back seat, even if now was neither the time nor place.

"Jax too," Lyla said in a sad voice. "So can you two just call a cease fire for now while we figure this shit out?"

Denise finally looked back over the headrest of her own seat and looked at Wendy to see not week ago. Wendy's face was tired, and worried, and hurting. For a moment, she was just another person who was scared for someone she cared about - loved. If there was one thing that Denise was certain of, it was that as messed up as things were, none of it wouldn't have happened if Wendy didn't _love_ Jax. For at least that moment, they were too similar for Denise to put her anger first.

"Yeah," Denise nodded, looking back at Lyla. "Just get us to St. Thomas's as fast as you can."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I know, I know - I torture everyone a little bit too much in this story! But it's all in the name of good entertainment, so I hope you'll forgive me! The next chapter will see the aftermath of a run gone bad, but it won't be all sadness and angst. We're gonna see a few interesting conversations, but I won't spoil who is gonna be doing the talking just yet. Thank you again for all of your feedback! Good or bad, every review I get really drives me to make each chapter better than the last. Also, if you're on Tumblr, check out my fanfic-specific account (**la-vik-ffn**) for some new posts related to the story, including a companion playlist for these angsty Juice/Denise chapters._

_And finally, I am also a little burnt out from the angst too, so I am writing a one-shot of Juice and Denise back in Stockton having better days, if you remember the good old days back in "On the Rocks", so I might post that in the future too._

_I'm sitting at my desk at work on my break as I type this author's note, since I brought my laptop with me today, so you get this mid-day update. As always, I appreciate hearing from all of you! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Until next time, cheers!_


	32. Chapter 32

"Well, look who decided to show up."

Denise was panting for breath and resting her hands on her knees after she got into the door to the waiting room at the hospital to find the remainder of the club there. She might have, at any other time, dignified Chibs' comment with a response, but right now, she just needed to catch her breath and figure out what was happening.

"Where is he?" Denise asked finally, her chest tight. "What happened?"

"We didn't think it was bad, doll - got clipped by an SUV on the way out to Chico, scratched up pretty bad," Bobby explained, holding his hand out to stop Chibs and moving over towards Denise himself. "When shit went down at the meet, he was already shakin' - the infection's pretty bad -"

"He got clipped by an SUV?" Denise repeated shrilly, her face paling in disbelief. "And you guys didn't let him come home -"

"What do you care, ah?" Chibs said, coming forward to face the younger woman just as Lyla and Wendy made it in the door with the boys. "Aren't you the one who left home?"

"This isn't about that," Denise hissed angrily. "This is -"

"Where is he?"

The conversation was, very thankfully, interrupted when the door opened yet again, this time revealing Wenya dressed in a nightgown and a pair of boots, covered up with a denim jacket - she was in a dissheveled state that indicated she'd run straight out of bed. "Where's Hap?" she said loudly, realizing that he wasn't in the waiting room with the others. "Oh, shit. Oh my God - is Hap -"

"I was takin' a piss."

Wenya turned so that she was looking straight at Happy with an absolute poker face, which had appeared on her face in an instant. She didn't take any steps closer to him as he rejoined everyone in the waiting room, she only crossed her arms over herself.

"You came."

"Yeah," Wenya said, her gaze downcast. "Scared the shit outta me, gettin' a call like that."

"Who called you?"

"Me."

Denise flinched when now, the gazes in the room turned towards her once she spoke up - she had called Wenya from the car on the way over, and now the entire waiting room of the hospital looked like SAMCRO had booked it for a private party. Denise knew the crap she was going to get for interfering, but she knew. She knew Wenya would show up, even if Wenya didn't know herself.

"What happened to your face?" Wenya asked finally, nodding towards a particularly nasty looking scrape on Happy's cheekbone.

"Same shit that happened to everyone else," he said calmly. "Stupid question."

His tone, however, was no long spiteful-sounding. He seemed almost like he was joking, which Denise hardly thought him capable of. Happy Lowman hardly seemed the shits-and-giggles type. However, it did catch Denise by surprise when he walked over a few steps so that he was standing in front of Wenya.

"You didn't need to come out here," he said.

"Yeah," Wenya shrugged. "Figured I'd come check on you. See if you were okay - and you are. So I can go."

"You don't gotta," Happy said. "Free country, innit?"

Denise nearly felt relieved enough to smile, and very nearly did as she turned away from the pair to look back at Chibs and Bobby to resume her questioning. "Where's Juice?" she repeated, crossing her arms again.

Chibs held his hand out and looked over at Bobby, a warning that he wanted to handle this conversation himself - the gesture made Denise feel choked, almost sick at the thought of why the situation warranted this much of a reaction. Chibs nodded for Denise to follow him, and she wordlessly mirrored his steps as they both headed towards the elevator.

"Bad infection," Chibs spoke up finally. "Been in and out of it the whole way, had to bring him back in the van -"

"Shit," Denise said, clasping her hands in front of her face. "Why didn't anyone -"

"No one called you because everyone knows that you're fuckin' pissed at the boy," Chibs interrupted, his face contorted into a frown. "I didn't want to put him through findin' out we called you and you didn't come -"

"What makes you think I wouldn't have come?"

"Because you ran off to the Mexi-pimp's house to play the victim and left Juice alone," Chibs said, slamming his hand back on the metal side panel of the elevator. "Jesus Christ, the boy loves you. And he needs you here. So don't make this about him and the gash that Jax is screwin' because she doesn't matter. Only you let her matter. That's the club, lass. You've been here long enough, you don't need me to explain this shit to you."

Denise scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. Of course Chibs was on Juice's side. Of course. But, she realized with a sudden softening of her expression, that Chibs wasn't entirely wrong. Denise knew she had made this about her, that she'd acted like Juice cheating exculpated her of everything because what he did was so much worse. Maybe it wasn't Chibs taking sides. Maybe he knew what he was talking about.

"I just want to see him," Denise said in a quiet voice. "Can I just - can I just do that and go from there?"

"Aye," Chibs said, just as the elevator door opened. He ushered Denise towards one of the rooms a couple of doors down where it looked like Juice was sleeping in one of the beds, pale and hooked up to an IV. Denise felt her breath catch in her throat, and Chibs reached out, clapping a hand consolingly on her back. "Jax is across the hall. We'll be bringin' her up next," he said carefully, knowing he wouldn't even need to say Wendy's name. "You want me t'get the door?"

"Doesn't matter," Denise said, taking a few deep breaths and looking at Juice, lying still in the hospital bed and realizing for the first time just what Juice must have felt, seeing her in the hospital bed after her brush with Gemma. "She doesn't matter."

Denise thought her legs were going to give way underneath her as she made her way into the room, taking a seat in one of the chairs next to the bed. It was only now that she saw that his eyes were not fully closed - a thin glimpse of dark brown was visible between his eyelids, and even in his groggy state, he gave a faint quirk of a smile.

"Hello, nurse," he said in a near-whisper. "Did I just die and go to heaven -"

"Say that again and I'm gonna kick your ass, you idiot," Denise said with a weak laugh, rubbing at her face and realizing that she'd actually started crying. Out of reflex, she reached out and smoothed her hand over his cheek, and his eyes opened a little more, almost imperceptibly so. It had been weeks since she'd just touched him like this, looked at him without anger and resentment, and while he was shaking visibly underneath his blankets and breaking into a cold sweat, this feeling was probably the best he'd felt in weeks as well. Denise took a breath and gently pulled back the top corner of the blanket to see that one of his arms was almost completely wrapped in gauze and bandages, and his ribs were wrapped and immobilized.

"One of 'em might be broken," Juice supplied hoarsely. "They got me on the good stuff so I don't feel it."

"Why didn't you go back after you got clipped by the SUV?" Denise snapped suddenly, replacing the blanket when he began to shiver more violently. "Why didn't you all turn around? The Niners -"

"You weren't supposed to know," he said, his brow furrowing deeply. "It was just a run."

"Why didn't you go home?" Denise insisted.

"Go home to what?" Juice asked. "To who?"

The response was like being doused in cold water, and Denise recoiled slightly upon hearing it but instead of replying, she leaning over and placed her hand on top of his. Denise gave Juice's hand a gentle squeeze, and she looked down at their intertwined fingers when he tried his best to squeeze her hand back.

"You need rest," she said, not letting go of his hand. "I should -"

"Stay," Juice said tiredly. "I want you to stay."

"...okay," Denise nodded, leaning and shifting so that she was leaning on the bed next to him, still holding tightly onto his hand. SO, she sat there. She sat for nearly an hour until finally, his grip on her loosened and he fell asleep, snoring gently. Denise took a moment to reach upwards and touch his face again, breathing a sigh of relief to find that his fever seemed to have gone down - his features no longer seemed nauseated and pained, and instead were peaceful. _Peace_, Denise realized, was something that had been much sought after lately. Now that he was calm and asleep, she got up and walked out into the hallway for air. It seemed fated that at the same time, the door to the room across the hall opened as well, and Wendy emerged, locking eyes with Denise for only a moment before scurrying away. Ignoring the encounter, Denise moved over to one of the hard plastic chairs against the wall and resting her head tiredly in her hands.

Denise nearly dozed off in her seat, trying to decide whether to stay or to go - but what must have been a short while later, she opened her eyes and saw Wendy striding up to her slowly, with two generic-looking coffee cups in her hands, one of which she hesitantly held out in Denise's direction

"They made mine wrong the first time so I had to order another one," she shrugged. "Figured you could use a fix."

"Fifth one today," Denise said with a sniff that may or may not have been her attempt at laughing as she reached out, accepting the cup from Wendy's hands. She lingered for a few seconds before finally taking a seat next to Denise, her gaze glued resolutely to her hands.

"I'm sorry, Deedee," Wendy said in a voice that was barely audible. Denise's body stiffened when she realized that she hadn't imagined it, that Wendy had actually said it, and she turned her head to look at the woman next to her. "I'm sorry for what happened, all of it - I never wanted -"

"I know," Denise interrupted in a placid voice, her face betraying no strong emotions despite the fact that she was a mess inside because this conversation was happening at all. "I get it, I swear I do. I know why it happened. Understanding why doesn't pull that knife out of my back."

"I know."

The two women sat silently for a short time, sipping on the coffee - but the fact that they were able to be near each other without falling into chaos was a vast improvement from the conditions of their last encounter. Wendy, after a few deep swigs from her cup, sighed and shook her head.

"You and Juice are supposed to be together. You two are supposed to make it," she said, finally turning her whole body to face Denise, who now was in uncharted territory - she flinched slightly, not sure of how to respond. "I love Jax - that's the reason I'm such a fuckin' mess, and I know I shouldn't be, but I am," Wendy said, shaking her head and allowing a couple of tears to roll down her cheeks. "I want Jax to fight for me, to give a shit about what I do - I want him to miss me like you and Juice miss each other."

Miss each other. Denise couldn't deny that she missed him, but she hadn't even considered the idea that everyone else could see it too. She inhaled, then exhaled so heavily that her chest heaved. "I just want him to get through this," Denise said honestly, glancing over towards the door to Juice's hospital room. "Because no matter what happens between him and me, my daughter deeserves a father who's in her life, not in a bedtime story."

"Don't pull that, Dee," Wendy said gently. "You love him. You want him to be okay for you too -"

"I never said that I didn't," Denise said sadly. Wendy paused, then got up to her feet, shifting her weight slightly.

"I - I hope that one day," Wendy began, looking down at her feet and pausing before finally managing to look at Denise again, "you and me could be friends again."

"Gonna take a lot more coffee," Denise said, but Wendy noticed the flicker of a smile at the corner of Denise's lips as she raised her coffee cup towards her as if proposing a brief toast. Wendy mirrored the vague, Mona Lisa smile before retreating back into Jax's hospital room.

With a sigh, Denise got up and walked back towards Juice's room, where he was still sleeping comfortably - she smiled a little when she realized that the faint noise wasn't a pump or a machine, but rather the sound of him snoring. As strange as it seemed, it was a welcome sound. She sighed and stared for a few short seconds before walking towards the window and looking outside at the ground below.

"Well, I'll be damned," she laughed quietly to herself when she managed to glimpse outside at just the right time, catching sight of Wenya getting onto the back of Happy's motorcycle. Forgiveness, maybe, came at the most unexpected times. Denise could now at least admit to herself that she wished for it. She wanted things to go back to the way they were, and she knew that at some point, there was a line to be drawn. She couldn't stay angry forever - she had tried that after her father and grandfather died. It simply didn't work. But how was she supposed to recover? Maybe she had already forgiven Juice, at least part of the way - but her pride certainly hadn't recovered.

"Deedee?"

Denise flinched when she turned to the door and saw that Wendy had come across the hall, supporting Jax who had his arm slung around her shoulders. His face was bruised, and there was a cut on his forehead that was only barely patched up. He clutched his side with his free arm, but for the most part, looked like he was doing a lot better than Juice was.

"What are you guys doing here?" Denise asked suspiciously, staying clear across the room from them. This was the first time the four of them were in the same room with one another since what had happened, and the tension was inescapable. "I don't think we should all -"

"Mayans got their hands on the Niners who clipped Juice," Jax interrupted, his voice hoarse and pained. "Called up Tig a few minutes ago, said they got a little interrogation in before finishin' the guy off."

Admittedly, Denise felt a small amount of satisfaction upon knowing that the guy who'd done this to her husband had gotten his comeuppance, but at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted to be privy to any more club business. Seemingly picking up on this, Jax pressed on.

"The Niners are still on Marks's payroll and they're gonna stay on us until Marks gets what he wants," Jax pressed on. "I don't want either of you in this - you both lay low, aight? No more stunts." He paused, then his gaze shifted so it landed on Wendy, who returned a look of both fear and anticipation. "You're too important to me," he said, shaking his head, and Wendy's jaw clenched visibly. Denise gave a small smile in spite of herself and nodded.

"So, you and Wendy?" she managed to speak up quietly. Jax looked up and smirked distantly for a few moments, recalling his refusal to give an answer every time that Denise had asked him before - and it had been his refusal which had gotten them into such a mess in their personal lives at all. He cleared his throat and nodded.

"Yeah," he said simply, leaning over and placing a kiss on Wendy's temple. "Somethin' like that."

Denise laughed weakly and nodded, crossing her arms over herself. For Jax to be able to forgive, she knew he must have really cared about her - and she knew that was all that Wendy had wanted. To say that she had handled it poorly was an understatement, but underneath everything, all of Wendy's actions had always been for Jax, about Jax. If they were able to move past things enough to give it another shot...

Right now, however, it was clear that in whatever way he could find, Marks was going to keep every ounce of pressure he could on Charming, on SAMCRO, and now that he had to do it all discreetly, there was no predicting what he would do next.

"I wanna do things right this time," Jax said, shaking his. "You two - you're ol' ladies and ol' ladies got no place in the shit we do -"

"What?"

Wendy spoke up in surprise, and Denise found herself smiling again. It was funny, she realized, that Wendy, who she had blamed for causing all of this trouble, was the one getting exactly what she'd wanted, exactly what she'd hoped for. In his subtle, even a little underhanded sort of way, he had committed to Wendy, he'd called her his ol' lady. Denise crossed her arms over herself and nodded a little, glancing over at Juice, still sleeping from the medications.

Denise would agree to stay out of club business, if that's what Jax was asking. She didn't want to build her life around the club anymore after the damage it had done to her family, working so closely with him. But Juice was lying in here, lucky that it wasn't any worse, and at the end of the day, Denise knew her brother was still involved, however remotely, in putting him there. Some things were her business. When they affected her family, they were her business, club or no club.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Another chapter down! Denise is getting the old itch to poke her nose where it doesn't belong again, and now, the conflict is expanding, pulling the Niners and the Mayans into the fight as well. In the coming chapters, we're gonna see the ripple effect of everyone's actions get bigger and bigger, and we're going to see how everyone's relationships adapt to face these changing times._

_I might be a little slow updating the next couple chapters - maybe a few days in between them, nothing crazy, hopefully. I just have more editing that I'd like to do on them, plus a lot of stuff going on. But as always, thanks for all of your reviews! Writing this story is probably the highlight of my busy days, because your feedback makes me smile! So until next time, cheers!_


	33. Chapter 33

"There's my baby girl!"

Juice looked up at the door when Nero came in, carrying Sofia into his hospital room. He chuckled slightly at the sight of the younger man being reunited with his daughter after having been in the hospital for three days on antibiotics.

"I'm only bringin' her in here a couple of minutes to say hi to her daddy," Nero explained, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Hospital ain't no place for a healthy baby girl."

"Right, right - of course," Juice said, clearly distracted by the sight of the little girl, who was clambering around in Nero's arms and squealing as she tried to reach out for Daddy. Nero leaned over so that Sofia could give her father a long, sloppy kiss on the face. "Where's Dee?" Juice asked, reaching out and smoothing a hand over his daughter's hair, which was now fuller, a shiny, almost-black shade of brown like her mother's

"Photo shoot or somethin' out in San Francisco. Rich couple, doin' their wedding photos out at that tea garden," Nero shrugged. "Chinita's been makin' good money lately, all these weddings."

"Yeah. Yeah, she's doin' good," Juice said with a lopsided grin. "You know, she doesn't need to do any of this. She could retire and never work a day in her life, we'd still be good."

"You could retire too, ese," Nero said matter-of-factly. "Get outta Charming, settle down with the missus?"

"If only," Juice chuckled. "Me and Dee, I lost count of how many times of how many times we've gone back and forth on this whole gettin' out of Charming thing. We can never settle. Either I get pulled back in, or she does."

"She's a Mama," Nero shrugged, his calm expression not betraying the pang of sorrow he felt, knowing that this was what Jax and Tara had gone through as well. The saddest part of the story, in Nero's mind, was the fact that they were so close to making it, and the idea of Juice and Denise falling victim to the exact same fate was even more painful to accept as a possibility. "You gotta understand that, man. This little girl here, Deedee would turn the world upside down for her. She ain't gonna drop it until she thinks she can find a safe place for this little girl. Ain't about you, or how much she cares for you."

Juice knew that of all the people who could possibly give him a lecture about what had happened with Wendy, it was probably Nero who could get to him the most - because Nero was the voice of reason, more often than not. He was the moral compass. And he was right. Juice had succumbed to Wendy because he'd resented Denise, for not placing being a wife above all things. He'd thought that all the time that Denise spent with Jax was because being married to Juice didn't give her what she needed.

Everything Denise did was for Sofia - leaving Charming and staying in the cabin, running off and nearly murdering her own brother, working with Jax against Marks, all of the crazy things that Juice took so personally had never been about him. He shook his head and sighed, looking at his daughter in Nero's arms.

"Nero. Hey, man," Juice asked suddenly, his expression straddling a borderline between childlike hope and fear for the question that he was about to ask. "You... you think Dee and me can do this? Fix things?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Nero paused from rocking Sofia and turned to face him, sucking in his lower lip slightly and nodding to himself in thought.

"When it comes to you, I can't predict what that girl's gonna do," Nero shrugged honestly. "The night of that run out to Chico? She thought you were much worse off, I didn't even know she bolted in the middle of the night. Called me once she was five minutes away telling me to check up on Fifi because she was racin' off to see you."

"She did that?" Juice asked, his forehead wrinkling curiously. "For me?"

"You make the girl lose her head. When it comes to you, I won't put anythin' past her," Nero shrugged, pacing back and forth a few steps. "But if you and her work out, you gotta realize, she's a strong woman -"

"I know that -"

"Lemme finish," Nero said, shutting his eyes briefly and shaking his head. "You gotta realize, just because she's strong doesn't mean that she don't need you to take care of her."

Juice paused, inhaling through his nostrils slowly and looking at Nero holding his daughter. Nero knew that, Juice realized, from experience. "Try tellin' her that," he said with a forced laugh. "I've been tryin' to take care of her, and every time, she throws back in my face that she can do it all, and she can do it all alone. I've been tryin' -"

"If you love her, you keep tryin'," Nero said, raising his eyebrows. "You love her, you love this little girl. I know that. And for as long as you keep carin', you keep tryin'."

* * *

><p>"You have five minutes, Charles" Denise said stiffly, staring at her brother across the table in the old diner in the Mission District of San Francisco. He was finally walking well on his own, had even been able to drive himself out to meet. She had been out on her way back from the shoot in the City when her phone had started ringing with a call from a blocked number, which she didn't answer. Instead, she let it go to voicemail and was surprised to hear Charles' voice when she checked the message asking her to meet him. Seated here with him, she glanced nervously out the window. "I always come armed, Charles. If you have anyone following you, you know I'm going to put a bullet in your head, right?"<p>

"No one's following me, Mei," Charles explained quickly. "I just - I need something from you."

"That hardly surprises me."

"I want out," he said quietly, his face looking slightly pale as he made the request which Denise wasn't even entirely sure that she believed. She raised her eyebrows incredulously, and shook her head, to which Charles replied with a brief, frantic expression. "Mei, please -"

"Tell me about the Niners," she demanded suddenly, her jaw jutting out slightly in anger. "About Chico."

"August is acting through the Niners now because he can't touch you directly," Charles said quietly, leaning across the table towards his sister. "Because of your little stunt."

"And how did you know about SAMCRO and the Mayans going on that run?"

"Because when we were in Charming for the rally you threw, we bugged your husband's bike," Charles said, looking down at his hands, which now trembled slightly. "I told them to - I had to make sure they destroyed the bike so they couldn't track him anymore without anyone finding me out. I'm trying to help you -"

"Help me?" Denise asked, her voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "The Niners tried to run my husband off the road, he's in the hospital now - and _you_ made that call, Charles?."

"Why do you care so much?" Charles asked, his brow furrowing as he shook his head in disbelief. "I know I'm not the only one who saw what he did with that little tart. The blonde -"

"My family is my business," she hissed. "And my family consists of my daughter and my husband. Period," she said, her eyes narrowed. "You stay out of this."

"Please help me, Mei," Charles said, and Denise flinched slightly when he reached out across the table for her and grabbed a hold of her hands. "Please. Getting in with Marks was a mistake -"

"It was a mistake because now you're a slave. You're his lackey, and you hate it," Denise said, feeling her own hands trembling at the way her brother begged. "Now, you have a good enough reason to want out. The fact that you were putting your own sister on the chopping block wasn't good enough, but now that you're in too deep, now you have a reason."

"Mei," he pleaded, bowing his head slightly so that his forehead touched their interwined hands. "There has to be something I can do. There has to be -"

Not a chance, Denise wanted to say. Not a chance in hell. The only thing stopping her was a nagging voice that reminded her of the letter Jax had given her from her father, that night over a year ago when his house had been set on fire.

_A time will come that you may be able to bring your brother back to the light. If you find this chance, save him._

She couldn't listen to her father, she thought to herself. Her father had thought even Uncle Henry was not beyond redemption, and that was indiciation enough that perhaps his ideas of Charles still standing a chance of being one of the good guys was simply folly. But Denise loved her father, and once, she had loved Charles. She wouldn't have done all of this crazy shit if she hadn't loved him once. Maybe if there was one thing that she and Juice still had in common, it was that at the end of the day, they always harbored the hope of not losing brothers.

"You can start," Denise said suddenly, causing Charles to look up at her and see the expression on her face, the look in her eyes that he knew well to mean that the gears in her head were turning. "By bringing me Gemma Teller. Think about it."

Denise didn't waste any time waiting for a response from her brother yet, grabbing the camera bag that she had hung on the side of her chair and walking out to her car again. She couldn't honestly say that she knew what had brought on the idea, except that Gemma had been on her mind a great deal more than she wanted to admit, especially now that she was away from Juice like she had been for that year in the cabin. It was nothing against Nero. Nero had been her rock in these past few weeks since finding out about Juice and Wendy. But it was different. For an entire year, she and Gemma had gone through everything together, and it was just now that her absence was felt.

The way Denise felt about Gemma Teller, she realized as she drove all the way back home to Charming where Nero was hopefully at home with Sofia, was a strange mixture of deep hatred and resentment and, somewhere very deep, love. She wished that things were simple, but then again, they never were.

A familiar wave of apprehension washed over Denise when she finally pulled up in front of Nero's house again and saw that there were two bikes in front of the home. She inhaled sharply and got out of her car, her grip on the strap of her camera bag so tight that her knuckles were going white. Her apprehension turned to anger, however, when she heard raised voices inside the house even from outside the door when she knew that Sofia was inside. She reached for the door and pulled it open, ready to throw herself into whatever awaited her inside.

"She needs to go, she's his wife -"

"Hold up, hold up, brother," Bobby said, reaching one hand over and pushing Chibs back away from Nero, who was carrying Sofia. "We're just here to deliver the news about Juice -"

"What news?" Denise spoke up, putting her bag down at the door and slamming it shut behind her. "What's going on?"

"Boy was discharged a couple of hours ago, just brought him back home," Chibs said, removing his sunglasses and raising his eyebrows at her. "Sent him home with some pills."

"Antibiotics?"

"And pain pills, and he needs his family back with him," Chibs said, not entirely successful in suppressing the snarl in his voice. "Jesus Christ, you need to put aside your -"

"We didn't come here to tell you any of this, excuse him," Bobby said, grabbing Chibs by the back of his kutte and yanking him backward when he saw Chibs starting to step closer to Denise. "Just wanted to let you know he's alright, headed home. Know you still care. Chibs - we're out."

"No, we're not -"

"We're out," Bobby repeated, started to shove him towards the door. Denise stepped aside, and she and Chibs locked eyes for a few tense moments as they made their way out to their bikes. Once they were safely gone, Denise walked over to Nero, who was just putting Sofia back down on the carpet so she could practice walking more. She let out a string of babbles the instant her feet touched the ground, and she toddled over to her mother, wrapping her tiny arms around one of Denise's jeans-clad leg. Immediately, Denise felt the tension that had built up, first from her meeting with her brother and then from the brief but jarring encounter with Chibs, melt away as she crouched down to scoop her daughter up off of the floor.

"Hey baby," she said, leaning over and kissing Sofia's cheek joyously. "Did you have fun with Uncle Nero today?"

"Sure did," Nero chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding. "Went to see her daddy, did a few laps at the park."

"So Juice is doing better," Denise nodded with a tight-lipped smile and a nod. "That's... that's good."

"What you gonna do about it, mami?"

"Don't put me on the spot like this -"

"Ain't no one puttin' you on the spot," Nero said, shifting his weight. "Just a question. You stayin' here is like bein' in limbo. Eventually, you gotta go one way or the other."

Denise paused. She knew that - of course she knew. The fact of the matter was that she was afraid of making that call, afraid of committing one way or the other. Her face went scared - innocent, even child-like - as she managed to look Nero in the eye and sigh.

"You think Chibs is right?"

"I think that you only stop tryin' when you stop carin'," he repeated with a shrug. "And I know for a fact that you haven't stopped carin' about that idiot yet."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I know, shorter chapter than usual, but I think it felt a little better to cut it off here!_

_Oh, Charles. Any time the guy gets involved in anything, it never bodes well for anyone. But things are gonna get fun from here on out, if your idea of fun is a lot of craziness and twists and turns. It breaks my heart a little bit to write Juice in these chapters because I obviously adore him as a character, and there's always a sense of deja vu when i have to write him trying to hard to make things right and having it not quite work yet. But at least he and Denise are at least thinking more about how much they want to work things out, thanks in large part to Nero._

_The next chapter is going to see how Denise responds to Juice getting out of the hospital, and a little bit more about how Charles decides to respond to Denise's demands. Charles's intentions are going to be a fun wild card in chapters to come, so keep an eye on that one! I hope you guys all enjoyed this update, and I'll be plugging away at getting the next one all prettied up for you. Until then, cheers!_


	34. Chapter 34

Juice groaned and attempted to turn onto his side, only to find that he couldn't comfortably lay on the side he usually did thanks to his injured rib. He had found out now that he was no longer on IV pain medication at the hospital that the extensive road rash all along his torso and leg was much more painful, made worse by the fact that the infected area had practically needed to be sloughed off.

He had been sleeping for most of the day after he had come home from the hospital, doing his best to be diligent with his pain meds out of necessity and a desire to sleep in his own bed. However, now that he had stirred a little, he realized that there was a sound coming from the living room. Slightly lightheaded, he struggled to get to his feet and clambered over to the door, pulling it open and leaning onto the doorjamb for support.

"Who's there?" he called out, his voice slightly hoarse and tired from his hospital stay. His eyes flitted around, trying for the life of him to figure out where he could find something to get him out of this mess. A pistol. A kitchen knife. A hairpin. Something. "I'm warnin' you -"

"No, Juan Carlos Ortiz, I'm warning you," came a familiar voice that Juice was sure was straight out of his imagination. "You haul ass back to that bed and lay down!"

"Dee?" he asked in disbelief, his eyes settling on Denise putting Sofia down on the soft rug in the living room and setting down a duffel bag on the couch. She straightened up and stared at Juice for a moment, hesitating in whatever decision had brought her back here. "What are you -"

"Look, you're not doing good," Denise said, walking over and standing in front of him, glancing back every few seconds at Sofia playing on the ground with one of the stuffed animals she had carried in with her. "I'm - I'm gonna take care of you."

"You brought your stuff back," Juice said, gulping slightly when Denise took a hold of the crook of his arm and started leading him back towards the bedroom. There was a certain stiffness to her demeanor, but her concerns still shone through. He felt almost like a tingle ran through him at the contact of her hand on his skin, just like he'd felt with her hand on his cheek in the hospital on the night of the run. "Does this mean -"

"I don't know what it means," Denise said quietly, unable to make contact as she started adjusting his pillows behind him so he was sitting up slightly. "I just - I don't want to leave you hanging when you're like this."

She let out a breath and straightened up to walk away, but just as she reached the doorway, Juice stammered a few unintelligible syllables before managing to groggily mutter, "Thank you." She stopped before she could get out of the room and glanced back over her shoulder and gave him a lopsided grin.

"Don't mention it," she nodded before heading back out to the living room and sitting down on the floor near Sofia. A smile settled on Juice's face as he saw the most important people in his life back home, back where they belonged. He kept staring at them out in the living room, playing with Sofia's stuffed animals, falling asleep to the sight of them with a grin still tugging at his features.

* * *

><p>Charles admittedly puffed his chest smugly when Althea Jarry rose to her feet whenever he entered a room. She was a lapdog. She bowed to whoever was in power at the time, and thanks to his connection to August Marks, Charles Kwan was a powerful man. Right now, however, what he needed from her was for her to go somewhere else - anywhere else - so he could have a moment alone with Gemma Teller.<p>

"Sheriff," he said, nodding in acknowledgment, and a small smile crossed her face as though she was a dog that had just been thrown a bone by her master. "I have a favor to request. An urgent favor."

"Of course."

"I need you to run these names for me - through every source you have," Charles said, fishing a piece of paper out of the breast pocket of his coat and holding it out to her. Harvey Mulligan and Melissa Kearn. "Keep searching until you find something - you'll know what I need when you see it."

Charles was reasonably certain that his sister's college friends probably had nothing worse than a parking ticket on their records - perhaps a DUI or a restraining order somewhere in that Harvey character's past, but nothing that would pique Jarry's interest. So, as she left the room where Gemma was sitting silently, Charles felt reasonably sure that he'd given her a task that would keep her away for a short while, at least. Once the sheriff had departed, Gemma looked up from her day-old newspaper at Charles with a raised eyebrow.

"You got an appointment, sweetheart?"

"Do you want to go back to Charming?"

Gemma froze at the abrupt question, with small but harsh lines forming between her eyebrows as she doubted she'd heard properly.

"My sister asked for you," Charles said simply. "In return for..."

His voice trailed off. It would be suicide to admit the reasons why before he even had Gemma's agreement to be part of the plan. But he knew that his partnership with Marks was one that August could quickly decided to liquidate, and all that it implied. Charles had the Triads, the nightclubs that August Marks could easily buy out. At some point, he knew he would outgrow his usefulness, and Marks did not have patience for those who no longer served a purpose.

"I tried to kill your sister, Charlie," Gemma said, pursing her lips and raising an eyebrow. "And you want to hand me over to her? Unprotected?"

"She's too soft -"

"Apparently you don't know your baby sister very well," Gemma said matter-of-factly. Charles cleared his throat, struggling to reconstruct his argument. His every assumption, of course, had relied upon his sister's ability to forgive. He had known her for her entire life, but she had become a very different person in the past two years - it left him with a sick feeling in his stomach to think that perhaps her ability to seek vengeance was even stronger. He couldn't believe that.

"Would it be worse than the life you have here?" Charles asked Gemma, taking a few steps closer to the woman who was now on her feet to face him. "In a cage, waiting for the day Marks decides what to do with you?"

Gemma's eyes narrowed in appraisal, piecing together what all of this meant until an enlightened expression crossed her face. Her lips parted slightly and she gave a light gasp. "You wanna take Marks down too, don't you?"

"If I send you to my sister, I'll send you with something to deliver - something that will help her and your son," Charles said quietly, looking off into the distance despite the fact that the room was windowless, entirely boxed in without any distance to look into. "It should be good enough to buy your way back into the margins of their good graces."

"Doubtful," Gemma pointed out. "I killed my son's wife and tried to kill his best friend in front of his little boy. Some wounds don't heal."

"Apparently," Charles said, raising his eyebrows. For the first time, Gemma saw a shadow of a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. "You don't know my baby sister very well."

He cleared his throat and tucked the almost-smile back to resume his normal, emotionless expression, nodding towards the door and starting to walk away. He had made it halfway out the door when Gemma called his name out once, prompting him to pause and look back over his shoulder at her.

"This is pretty brave of you, Charlie," Gemma said. He paused, looking momentarily dumbfounded before clearing his throat and shaking his head.

"Between my sister and I," he said, his voice thick with a strange emotion that Gemma hadn't ever heard from him, let alone considered him capable of, "I'm not the brave one."

* * *

><p>"Don't be such a ninny, Juice -"<p>

"That shit hurts!"

Denise had realized that she was the only one here to change the bandages on his back, and though she'd tried to give him his pain meds beforehand to make it more tolerable, the instant she'd started pulling off the old gauze from the road rash, he'd reached out for the plastic cup of water by his bed and tried to grab it, only succeeding in knocking it off of his nightstand.

"You make a racket, then Fifi's gonna wake up, and I'm gonna let her change these," Denise said in a sing-song voice, feigning amusement to get herself through the process. "Just - try to stay still -"

"Ouch, Jesus Christ!"

"Nope, just me."

Juice let out a strangled groan when Denise began removing the gauze from a particularly raw spot, and out of reflex, his arm swung backward, reaching out for Denise's hand and giving it a squeeze. She gently dropped the roll of gauze and froze in place, drawing her hand slowly out of Juice's.

"I'm sorry," Denise said hesitantly, clearing her throat awkwardly. "I - I wasn't trying to hurt you -"

"I wasn't trying to hurt you either," Juice replied before he was able to stop himself. Denise cleared her throat again and resumed taking care of his bandages, not saying another word until she had finished. When Juice felt that she had stopped, he drew in a deep breath so that he was laying gently on his back, then sat up slightly to watch Denise finish putting away the supplies. "Are we really gonna do this? What are we supposed to be?"

"I don't know," Denise shrugged honestly, still putting things back into the wound care kit and standing with her back to Juice, whose eyes she could feel boring a hole into the back of her head. "I just need time -"

"I don't think we have time," Juice interrupted, growing slightly agitated so that Denise couldn't help but turn to look at him in concern. "Shit like this, it could happen any time. It could be worse. If we're gonna do this, if we're gonna be a family, it's gotta be now because we don't know -"

"Don't do this to me," Denise said, shaking her head slowly and running her hands through her hair in frustration. "Don't use that against me, Juice. You know that I never wanted things to be like this. I'm just trying to do the right thing -"

"I'm sick of you always doin' the right thing!" Juice said, finally feeling his temper snap in response to being in this situation with the woman he loved. "I want you here. I want you and Sofia here at home more'n anything, but I don't want you to stick around here because you feel like you have to. If you don't wanna be here with me, then you can go back to Nero's. You can go wherever makes you happy."

I can't be happy anywhere, Denise was dying to say. Her words hung back, unspoken, like hounds chomping at the bit that could be seen gnashing their teeth and struggling behind her eyes. How was she supposed to choose between not seeing him anymore, or looking at him every day and seeing what he'd done replaying over and over again. She breathed heavily until, practically out of nowhere, a piece of advice that Nero had given her while she sat up late one night in his living room came flooding back into her mind.

* * *

><p><em>"I've known the guy. Known him for a long time," Nero said, handing Denise a steaming mug of black coffee. "It ain't no excuse for what he did, but you make him strong. Once he felt like he was losing you, all that was gone."<em>

_Denise exhaled and shook her head, but didn't react. There were times where she really didn't know how to handle Nero's constant need to give advice, and always in this cryptic, almost mystic sort of way. It was something she never had growing up - not from her father, not from her grandfather, or from Charles._

_"You'll never be able to say there's nothin' left," Nero pressed on. "Because you have a daughter. There'll always be somethin'. You and this guy have a daughter you both love - she's this beautiful, perfect little person, and half of that perfect little person who has your whole heart is Juice. I can't tell you whether or not you should be with him, but a little piece of you still has to have love for him."_

_"I want to forgive him," Denise said, shaking her head and not looking up from the laptop screen that cast a slightly bluish glow over her face. "I - I do. But I just... I want him to prove I should. I want him to show me -"_

_"If there's one thing I'm sure about, chinita," Nero said, raising his eyebrows slightly. "It's that forgiveness with a price tag ain't really forgiveness."_

* * *

><p>Was that what she was doing? Putting a price tag on the forgiveness she kept dangling in front of her husband by coming back here? Denise had never meant it that way. Never. She inhaled, taking in a deep shuddering breath as she looked over her husband. He was tired. He was in pain - he should've been resting, and all he was thinking about was her. This, Denise realized, wasn't the kind of person she wanted to be. She had wanted so much to show all of them that she wasn't just a poor little rich girl who was spoiled and used to having her own way, but she was just proving everyone right.<p>

Forgiveness, Nero had reminded her time and time again, was a choice - and it was a choice she had to make for her own sake, for her own peace of mind, even if for no other reason.

She stepped forward and sat at the foot of bed, leaning over and slowly brushing her lips across Juice's cheek, lingering there for a brief moment before pulling back and looking at him with a determined expression as she reached out and clasped her hand onto one of his.

"I belong here. With my family," she said, nodding and finally allowing a small smile to poke through. "I don't know how we're gonna do this but... I want to be here."

And then, despite the fact that moving was still physically painful, Juice practically lurched forward and wrapped his arms around his wife, embracing her as tightly as he could manage to while she froze up slightly in surprise from the quickness of his movements. It took her a few moments to realize what was happening and reciprocate, careful to avoid pressing on the bandages she had just changed.

"Careful," she chuckled weakly, sniffing and realizing that she had warm, salty tears running down her cheeks at this point. "I worked hard on those bandages."

"Thank you, baby," he said, and Denise felt another wave of tears when she realized that he was crying too - this was his fault, she thought humorously to herself. She had never been one to cry before Juice had come around. "I promise you, everythin' is gonna be different now -"

"No, it won't," Denise said, her quiet laughter muffled as her face was still buried in his shoulder. "We're gonna keep pissing each other off and screwing up, and then we're gonna apologize, and we're gonna do this. We're gonna try to fix it every time," she promised, nodding and holding him close, just missing the feeling of being close to him again.

"You're the only person I wanna have pissin' me off for the rest of my life," Juice chuckled, finally pulling back and resting his forehead against Denise's, finally really smiling. "You're everythin' I've got, you and Sofia. And if you need to do - whatever you gotta do, then - then I can deal, okay?"

Denise found that breathing was becoming a slightly more difficult task. A part of her was afraid. Not afraid - scared shitless. But another part, the bigger and braver part that always seemed to win out for better or for worse, knew that the answer to all of this was simple.

"Okay."

Juice's grin widened before he leaned forward and gently, chastely pressed his lips to hers. It wasn't going to be smooth sailing, both of them knew, but the ship was no longer sinking and the wind was back in their sails.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Well, it took almost 10 chapters for it to happen, but Juice and Denise are finally back to a semi-good place! I'm going to have a couple of nice, mostly light-hearted chapters before we jump back into things. We have some new events to set the stage for, and anyone who ships Jax/Wendy will have a few events to keep them happy too, at least for a while._

_I know I've kept you guys waiting a good while for Juice and Denise to finally make up, so I hope the update was to all of your liking. As you've probably all realized, this story is going to run quite a bit longer than "On the Rocks", and there's still plenty of story left to tell. So, buckle up and prepare for a fun ride! Until the next update, cheers!_


	35. Chapter 35

Juice was not a person to press his luck - when good things happened, even in small doses, he accepted them. So, he was happy take the slow rebuilding of his family for what it was. Denise took care of him, checked on him, brought Sofia in and made sure they all ate meals together, even if it meant dragging the baby's high chair into the bedroom so the three of them could eat together in the bedroom. She still slept on the futon out in Sofia's nursery, but she spent most of every day around Juice - Denise had even refused to book any new photoshoots until Juice was better so that she could be there with him.

It was a pleasant surprise, however, when Juice woke from an early afternoon nap to find that Denise and Sofia were sitting in a chair by his bed, napping as well. It was, he realized, the first time they had all slept together as a family again, even if it wasn't in quite the same way as it had once been. For the first time, he could hear his baby daughter's gentle breathing... and his wife's gentle snores.

In recent days, Juice had found his strength returning quickly once he'd finished up his course of antibiotics and the skin on his road rash was not quite as raw. Now, he realized, he wanted to do something nice for Denise because she had come back. She had forgiven him. She had done both, even though she was obligated to do neither. Slowly getting up on the opposite side and treading slowly so to avoid waking his wife and daughter, Juice tiptoed - practically hovered - to the kitchen. Today, lunch was on him.

Granted, he only had the energy to make sandwiches - but he knew Denise wasn't picky. It wasn't much, he realized, but it was something, and it had been a long time since he'd felt like he was able to do _anything_ for her.

He was settled in the kitchen, throwing together turkey and avocado sandwiches - because, he reasoned, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches lacked a certain elegance he was going for. The process of trying to throw something together for her brought back thoughts of Stockton, of the night before he'd found out that she was Henry Lin's niece - the nice dinner, the lazer tag, dancing to music coming from the car speakers until a lamppost light. He'd loved her then - even before he'd been thrown into all of this mess with her, he had loved her with all of his heart.

"Juice?"

He looked up in surprise when he heard a voice at the door and saw Brucey's clean-shaven face peering in through the window, waving. "Hey, brotha', let me in!"

Juice set down the knife he was using to cut the sandwiches, rolling his eyes slightly but still wearing a slight grin when he opened the door. "First time you've come by to see me, man, what gives?" he chuckled, extending his hand towards Brucey, pulling him inside and slapping the other hand on his back in one-armed hug.

"You're up and about - that Deedee's car out front?" he asked, nodding over his shoulder before closing the door. Juice couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he nodded, scratching the back of his neck.

"She came back a couple days ago, we're... we're workin' shit out," he affirmed, shuffling back over towards the kitchen so he could finish cutting the crust off the sandwiches. "I mean, it's mostly still me layin' in bed all the time and her makin' me cry like a baby while she changes the bandages on this roadrash," he laughed, gesturing at his side before adding as a joke, "I think inflicting a little pain on me once in a while is helpin' her out a little too."

"Juice, what are you - did you really just go to the kitchen and make me a sandwich?"

Denise emerged from the bedroom, her arrival heralded by the pitter-patter of Sofia's feet across the floor as she toddled ahead, babbling joyously as she hurried over to Juice (as much as her little legs would allow her to hurry, anyway). Denise was grinning as she walked over and gave Juice a swift peck on the cheek before picking up the plate with the sandwich he'd been making.

"Sorry, Brucey," she said before taking a bite of the sandwich. "Dozed off. I guess playing nurse for this guy is a little more tiring than I thought it would be -"

"Whoa, hold up," Juice said, raising his eyebrows in surprise and looking at Brucey. "You came over here looking for her?"

"That's my fault," Denise piped in. "I sent him off on an errand and I didn't tell him where to find me. What'd they say?"

"Talked to the manager, Ma'am. Said that for an ol' lady, they can make room in their schedule."

"Hold on, hold on," Juice said, first crouching over and scooping Sofia up off the ground and then standing back up, holding up his index finger to pause everyone's chatter. "Can I call a time out and get an update here?"

"Oh, I asked him to check if Saturday was open over at Bozo's for Sofia's -"

"First birthday," Juice said, now clapping his hand over his mouth. "That's right, huh, princess? You gonna have a birthday at Bozo's?"

Bozo's was an arcade and playhouse - the smalltown equivalent of Chuck E. Cheese except, as Denise was apt to point out from the times that she had brought Abel there when he was smaller to run off his abundance of energy, with much better pizza.

"I was just checking if it was free on such short notice," Denise shrugged. "But, I mean, I know it might be a little much for you -"

"Nah," Juice said, scoffing casually. "Look at me. I'm strong as a freakin' ox - I'm good. Let's throw our babygirl a par-tay!"

"Aight," Brucey chuckled, holding his finger out towards Sofia, who grabbed it with her tiny fist and chomped down on his fingertip so that he grimaced in pain, but didn't dare yank his finger away from little Princess Ortiz in front of her daddy and mommy. "I'll go let the guy know that we'll take the banquet room on Saturday."

"Baby," Denise said, reaching out and gently tapping the pad of her pointer finger on Sofia's chubby cheek. "Give Uncle Brucey his hand back so he can go set up your birthday party, okay? Okay?" Denise cooed, eliciting a string of babbles from Sofia as she released Brucey's finger.

"Beeebaaa," Sofia babbled. "Beedoobabuuuuu!"

"Alrighty," Brucey chuckled at the little girl's incoherent chitter chatter, while Denise pouted slightly at the fact that as of yet, Sofia still hadn't started saying full words. As Brucey departed, Denise's face still looked slightly concerned as she went to sit on the couch and Juice took Sofia and sat down next to her.

"Do you think it's my fault she's not talking yet?" Denise asked suddenly, her voice quiet as she looked over at Juice. "I mean, all the stuff we've been going through, maybe I haven't been talking to her enough -"

"Hey, hey, c'mon," Juice said, scoffing again and shaking his head. "There's nothin' wrong with our little girl, aight? Nothin'. She's probably just like you - keepin' all the words inside until she comes up with just the right way to say 'em."

"If you say so," Denise sighed, forcing a lopsided grin. In fairness, Sofia listened extremely well. She knew what the word 'stop' meant, she knew that 'no' in a quiet voice meant 'yes' if she giggled, but 'no' in a loud voice meant 'no' no matter what. But Juice saw the fearin Denise's eyes that she was falling short as a mother, and a part of him still felt a pang of guilt at the fact that it might have been, in part, because he and the club had sapped so much of the life out of her lately.

"I'm gonna make sure that she had the best first birthday ever, aight?" Juice said, leaning over and planting a kiss gently on Denise's temple. "And I ain't lettin' nothin' get in the way of that. No club business, no nothin'."

"My hero," Denise chuckled, slowly scooting over and leaning her head on Juice's shoulder with a calm sigh. That, Juice realized was the most calming thing he'd heard in a long time, because when Denise was calm, it meant she felt safe. It meant things were getting better.

So, Juice went about the rest of the day and fell asleep that night with a contented grin as well, thinking that things were going as well as they possibly could. However, Denise always had a flair for oneupmanship. Juice stirred slightly in the middle of the night, shifting in his sleep to turn away from the tiny sliver of light that leaked in through his blinds. When he turned onto his other side, however, he had to blink in disbelief when she saw Denise laying next to him under the covers, sound asleep. A smile tugged at his sleepy features and he reached over to tuck an errant strand of hair away from her face before kissing her forehead gently.

"Welcome home, baby," he muttered sleepily, draping his arm over her before dozing off again.

* * *

><p>"I believe I've found what you're looking for, Mister Kwan."<p>

Charles, backing away from the press that the Triads used to produce counterfeit cash, stared at his phone when he heard the simple statement from Althea Jarry. He'd forgotten he had asked her for a favor at all because as far as he knew, she had given the woman an impossible errand. He rolled his eyes, ready for the overeager puppy of a sheriff to tell him some trivial piece of information, that Harvey and Melissa had a parking violation in Stockton, or that they'd been caught getting hot and heavy in a car somewhere. He figured the woman would try whatever she could to stay useful. He couldn't blame her. Usefulness, in their position, was key to survival.

"Sheriff, I really don't have time -"

"You wanted to know about the Mulligans," she said, sounding mildly confused. "Mister Kwan? I thought that you wanted me to gather intelligence on the Mulligans."

"Harvey Mulligan, yes," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I doubt -"

"Yes, Harvey. Flick's brother?"

Charles paused. Flick was brothers with Harvey? The insecure yuppie boy that used to follow Denise around like a creepy, at times slightly perverted puppy? He cleared his throat, realizing that what had been meant as a wild goose chase to distract Althea Jarry had become potentially useful. "I suspected as much," Charles lied. "If you could keep this between -"

"I've already informed August," she piped in. "He thinks it could be useful."

Unbeknownst to Althea since they were on the phone, some of the color drained from Charles' face as he realized he had perhaps unwittingly found a way to place Denise in peril again, when he just barely managed to convince her to give him a chance to free himself from August's clutches. Whatever he was going to do, however he was going to earn his freedom back, he was going to need to act fast.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Eek, where has the time gone! Sorry to all of you for the short chapter and the long wait. I was going back and forth about where to divide chapters, and what scenes I had written to cut and include. In the end, things felt slightly more natural to divide things this way, and the result was a set of much shorter chapters._

_This chapter was mostly setup and filler for the next few, which are going to have slightly more meat to them and throw a few more curveballs to make life a little more interesting for everyone. But there will be fluff too, so the drama shouldn't burn you out too terribly!_

_Anyway, thank you again for your reviews, your support, and for just being the best! I've got a lot going on in real life, so writing this story and reading all of your feedback is a little bit like an escape - a mini vacation, if you will. So, I hope you all liked this humble installation to my story, even if not a whole lot has happened yet, and the next chapter should be up very soon as well! Until then, cheers!_


	36. Chapter 36

Why the name "Bozo" was considered amusing would always remain perplexing to Denise. There was hardly anything entertaining about it. Baby Sofia, however, was excited and squealing in elation from the instant they brought her inside of Bozo's, the kids' fun center in Charming, so for her sake, Denise could easily pretend she liked clowns and balloons and the smell of cotton candy. Besides, she decided with a smile, the sight of Tig practically having to walk around with his eyes closed to avoid the sight of the prize wall - an entire wall that was comprised almost entirely of dolls - was well worth enduring the sickly sweet cotton candy scent.

"That's right, keep laughin'," Tig grumbled, catching sight of Denise with her hand clapped over her mouth to stop her giggles from leaking out, having very little success at doing so. "I don't see anythin' funny."

"Oh, come on - go pick up a MILF at the skee ball game or something," Denise scoffed, laughing good-naturedly. Tig pulled a face and grumbled something about Denise being a spoiled brat, prompting her to elbow him in the side as he leaned over to kiss the side of her head in greeting.

"Ouch! Jesus Christ, potsticker, keep your kung fu hands to yourself," he groaned, rubbing his ribs exaggeratedly. "This is a _family_ institution."

"Aunt Deedee! Aunt Deedee!"

Denise turned around to see Abel running towards her with a gift in his arms, holding it out to her proudly. It was a box about half his size, wrapped messily in Harley Davidson wrapping paper and copious layers of Scotch tape. The look on his face made it clear that he'd done the wrapping himself, and Denise took the proffered package with a smile, setting it front and center among the other gifts before leaning over and hugging the little boy tightly, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"What's a margarita?" he asked, Denise's eyes widened slightly before snapping back like a rubber band so that her brow quickly furrowed. "When we walked in here, Mama said she could use a margarita so I'm looking for one!"

"I don't think you're gonna find any of 'em here, sweetie," Denise chuckled before looking up at Jax, who walked over to the long table they had reserved in the dining area with his arm around Wendy.

"Juice and Fifi are over there playing in the ballpit," Denise said, nodding over to the opposite corner where sure enough, Juice was seated at the edge of the ballpit, though rather than actually putting Sofia in the pit because she was too small, he had her in his arms and simply handed her colorful plastic balls to throw. "You boys wanna go say hi?"

Jax nodded and leaned over, giving Denise a swift peck on the cheek in greeting that for once, Wendy seemed perfectly okay with. "I'll let you two... catch up, yeah?" Jax said before nodding for Abel to follow him over to greet Juice and the birthday girl. Denise nodded for Wendy to take a seat at one of the small booths next to their reserved table before she walked off somewhere for a brief moment, then reappeared, sliding a plastic cup filled with a red strawberry slushie over towards Wendy.

"It's not a margarita, but it's as close as you can get in here," Denise said, taking a seat across from Wendy with a lopsided smile. "Abel said you could use one."

"Thanks," Wendy nodded.

"How..." Denise began before she had to clear her throat, still unsure of how to talk to Wendy. Could things be normal? Did she want them to be? "How's Abel?" she managed to ask.

"He's good. Really good," Wendy nodded with bright enthusiasm. "He's only seeing the therapist once every couple weeks to check in. They said he's adjusting alright. Just... just needs the right people around him, people who make him feel safe. He's missed you."

"I've missed him too," Denise nodded honestly. "But I'm... I'm glad that he has you around now, all the time. It's good."

"Yeah," Wendy laughed, the squeamish tone still not completely gone from her voice as though she still felt small under Denise's gaze. "How about you?" she choked out. "How are - you know, things?"

"Good." Denise wanted to cringe at how awkward and stilted their conversation was, but the awareness that this was better than nothings was reason enough to press forward. "Things are still pretty weird. Definitely not normal. But still good."

"Good."

Wendy looked down and wordlessly took a drink from the slushie that Denise had brought for her. It was a wonder, Wendy thought to herself, that so soon after everything that had happened, Denise was able to give her a drink without wanting to poison her. That was how things worked with SAMCRO, she decided. Sometimes, when someone was all you had, you couldn't stay angry with them for long. You'd want to, of course, but that didn't make it an option.

"I meant it when I said I wanted you and me to be friends again," Wendy finally managed to speak up. "I know that's - that's a weird request for me to make, but I really want that, Dee. I want you and me to be okay."

"I know," Denise nodded. Wendy, at first, felt slightly disappointed at the noncommittal answer, but when she looked up and saw Denise at least trying to smile, trying to make this normal in some way, she knew that Denise was doing her best.

"I love my family. So do you," Wendy continued, nodding and reaching over to grab Denise's hand - she wasn't much of a touchy-feely person, but she had learned quickly that in Charming, people communicated by touch just as much as they did by speech. Denise inhaled slowly through her nostrils and breathed out through pursed lips before managing to reply to Wendy.

"You _are_ family," Denise nodded, gently squeezing Wendy's hand back. "And family's allowed to hate each other once in a while, but at the end of the day..." her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. This was all Nero's fault, Denise thought to herself in amusement. He'd gotten her on this forgiveness kick, and now, she was forgiving people left and right.

"_Babe!_"

Denise looked quickly over her shoulder when she saw Juice hurrying over, carrying Sofia and pointing at her foot, and Denise's first reaction was fear. What was wrong? Had she gotten hurt? Denise leapt to her feet to meet Juice halfway, and he panted slightly to catch his breath.

"She kicked her shoe off somewhere in the ballpit - I didn't put her down for a second, I swear!" Juice said. Denise raised her eyebrows and fought back the urge to sock him in the shoulder, even if only because he was holding their daughter.

"_You_," she said, shaking her head gently, "just scared the s-h-i-t out of me. Fifi," Denise said, turning her attention to their daughter and taking off her other shoe as well so that she was at least even, "your Daddy is a dork."

"_Dada!_"

Juice and Denise immediately locked eyes, both bearing comical, almost cartoon-like expressions of shock. Amused by her parents faces, Sofia squirmed in Juice's arms and turned to look at him, reaching around and bopping him on the nose with her tiny fist. "_Dada_!"

"Oh my God!" Denise said excitedly, clapping both of her hands over her mouth to mask an overjoyed squeal - if Sofia's first word hadn't drawn attention from those around them, Denise's proud-mama celebration which consisted of her squealing and bouncing, practically _oscillating_ on the spot definitely did. She reached over and tapped the side of Juice's face gently with the tip of her finger, not once taking her eyes off of Sofia. "Who's this? Who's this guy, Fifi?"

"Dada!"

"Did my ol' ears hear that right?" came a voice approaching from behind. "Is our little _princesa_ talkin'?"

"Nero!" Denise said, hurrying over and giving him a fond hug as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She practically dragged him over to Juice and Sofia in her excitement, reaching over and tapping Juice's face again. "Fifi, tell grandpa Nero -"

"_Chinita,_" Nero chided, prompting Denise to pause and chuckle sheepishly, knowing that Nero wasn't exactly fond of being called a grandpa. He laughed as well as Denise quickly resumed.

"Tell _Papi_ Nero who this is," she squealed excitedly, tapping Juice's face with her finger yet again.

"Dada!" Sofia laughed giddily, kicking her feet against Juice and bouncing. Realizing quickly that every time she said the new word, everyone grew excited and played with her more, she repeated it. "Dada!"

By now, practically everyone that they'd invited had trickled over to hear the birthday girl in action, and despite the fact that Juice had, only days ago, practically cursed the fact that he'd ever come to the club at all, that he'd considered them a nuisance that stood in the way of him and his family, there was something good - something _familial_ now as they all came over to congratulate him with claps on the shoulder and kisses on the side of his head, celebrating his daughter's latest milestone. Denise took a moment to look at him, to really _look_, and realized that there were times that the club truly _was_ still a band of brothers for him. In spite of everything, he still loved them - and Denise felt very much the same way. This was why they kept getting pulled back, because for two people who had very little else to turn to in the world, a family - even one as messed up as SAMCRO - was difficult to walk away from.

Denise flinched slightly when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, and she excused herself from the crowd to step outside and take the call, which she presumed was going to be from a client checking in on when their photo proofs would be done. When she arrived outside and looked down at her phone, however, she felt herself shiver when she realized that it wasn't a client.

"Hello, Charles," Denise said quietly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed her to eavesdrop. "Why are you -"

"You have a deal," he said quickly. "I've arranged everything. You can collect Gemma from me tomorrow - meet me in Stockton."

And without another word, without any further explanation, Charles hung up. Denise went back inside to her daughter's birthday party with a sense of heaviness that she didn't have before. Here was something else that she'd have to hide from Juice - something else she was doing on her own. She wanted so much to consider it _not her fault_. She and Juice hadn't even been getting along when she'd made the deal with Charles - but they were okay now. They were okay. They were sleeping in the same bed, under the same roof. They were supposed to be done keeping secrets, but this wasn't something she could tell him about because she knew he would stop her. The weight of the decision she was making sat heavily on her shoulders, and she knew, even now, that it was a mistake - but it was one that couldn't be stopped anymore, because the consequences might be too great.

"This gets done," Denise muttered to herself, nodding almost imperceptibly. "Just this once. No more..."

This had to be the last time, Denise told herself. This had to be the last time she acted like she was the only one responsible for saving her family, the only one who could act. She and Juice had to be partners now - she just had to clean up this one last mess, and _no more_. It was different this time because this was a mess she had made all on her own - Juice was trying so hard and doing everything he could. Denise couldn't ask him to clean this up for her.

The idea played on repeatedly in her head until, without her even noticing, Juice came up behind her and nudged her back with his shoulder. Denise gave a small gasp and turned around in surprise to find him no longer holding Sofia, as Wendy had now taken Sofia and Thomas over to the small coin-operated carousel, where they were both seated on the same horse, with Thomas reaching out and holding Sofia's hand.

"We're gonna have to watch out for that one," Juice chuckled. "I said so the moment I first saw her, I'm gonna need to be showin' all the little boys how her Daddy cleans his guns or else - _hey_," he said, pausing in his fond ramblings to wave a hand in front of Denise's slightly blank eyes. "Somethin' wrong? Who was that?"

"That?" Denise asked, her brow furrowing slightly. "Just a client - the photographer they booked for their kid's sweet sixteen had an emergency, and someone slipped 'em my card, asked if I could make it out to shoot the party tomorrow."

"Wow, talk about eleventh hour," Juice chuckled, crossing his arm and nodding - he was impressed, without a doubt, at how successful Denise had gotten just by word of mouth, though the stunt she had pulled in the park had given her some good publicity as well. "Where at?"

"Stockton," Denise said - there was something strangely relieving about being able to at least be honest about _where_ she was going, even if she had to lie about what she was doing there. "You don't have a run or anything that you need to be on tomorrow, do you?"

"Nah," Juice scoffed. "Overdue for a little Fifi and Daddy time, so you can go ahead and do work. Bring home the bacon," he chuckled. "And then maybe when you get home... we could have a little Mommy and Daddy time...?"

The phrase inflected upward into a question. Juice knew that he couldn't rush her into being _normal_ with him again, but tonight had just been so good, it had been practically perfect. If there was any time to be a little bit brave, it had to be now, didn't it? Juice felt a wave of relief when Denise shot him a small, vague smile.

"That sounds good," she nodded. "I... I'd like that." For a few short seconds, they simply stood there looking at each other again, like two people who had just met and were trying to decipher this connection that they felt towards one another. Juice reached over for her hand and squeezed it fondly, but before he could say anything else, there was another sound that caught their attention.

"_Mama_!"

Denise's eyes were wide as she turned around and saw Wendy walking towards them while carrying Sofia who was looking straight at Denise and reaching for her with both hands, squirming to get out of Wendy's arms. Denise let out a gasp as she scooped her daughter into her arms and kissed her chubby little cheek repeatedly.

"That's right, baby!" Denise said, reaching out and tapping Sofia gently on the tip of her nose. "I'm Mama!"

"_Mama!_"

"Alright, prepare for the waterworks," Tig called out, earning a swift _thwack_ across the head from Jax as everyone else snickered. Tig, however, was completely right as Denise sniffed back a few tears, beaming broadly while Juice stepped up and put his arm around her, leaning over and whispering in her ear.

"Told you so."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And there is your mostly fluffy chapter! Even as a writer, though, I'm getting annoyed with Denise as a character - I almost forget that I'm the one doing the writing. No more secrets, Deedee! Cut that crap out! Bringing Gemma back into the fold is going to complicate things, definitely, but it isn't going to be the primary issue right away. But in any case, you'd best believe that Denise is going to have to be held accountable for trying to pull all the strings without telling anyone, even if she means well.  
><em>

_Also, within maybe the next 5 chapters, depending on how I divide things up, start preparing yourselves for some turbulence. I won't spoil what's going to happen, but things are definitely going to get shaken up. As always, thank you for all of your reviews and feedback! I'm so grateful that you're all sticking with this story! I've also been posting graphics and other fun things on my Tumblr more frequently lately, so feel free to head thattaway to check it out. The most recent post, as of this update, is a new more happy, romantic playlist that helps me power through writing the fluff even though I know that some very non-fluffy times are ahead.  
><em>

_Until next time, cheers!_


	37. Chapter 37

This place had to be cursed, Denise thought as she looked at the vacant lot where Charles had decided they should meet to hand Gemma off to her. The building that had once stood on this lot was the same one that Charles had tried to trap her and Juice in - it felt like it had to have been in a past life. Denise didn't even know if she remembered the person she was back then. But the fact still remained that much of the rubble and cement still remained here, and it had also become a dumping ground of sorts for junkers and stolen cars that people didn't want any longer. There was plenty around to obstruct the view of the handoff, and Denise leaned back against the chain link fence that she'd once needed to shimmy under, wearing a dress and no shoes, to escape the demolition.

It was only as she was driving out here to Stockton that she realized something - she didn't have plans for how exactly to clean up this mess at all. She only had one idea, and it held just as much likelihood of blowing up in her face as anything else. All Denise knew was that while having Gemma around was dangerous, so was letting her out of their sights. The last thing anyone needed was for Gemma to eventually grow loyal to Marks, even if only to save herself.

Denise felt her pulse quicken as she saw the black sedan pull up, but no one came out just yet. Anxiety began to envelop Denise as she wondered if perhaps she had just walked into something she couldn't get herself out of after all.

* * *

><p>"Hold onto this," Charles said, holding out a Manila envelope towards Gemma, nodding for her to put it inside of her bag. "Don't open it. It's going to prove very valuable, but it's not a card you can play right away."<p>

"You know that August is expecting me to deliver intel back to you on them," Gemma said skeptically, glancing out the tinted window and seeing Denise staring into the car - even if she knew that Denise couldn't see her, she was staring right inside the car, and Gemma felt herself shiver at the feeling that their eyes met now, for the first time since Gemma had tried to kill her. "What are we gonna do about that, Charlie?"

"You bluff for as long as you can," Charlie said, staring straight ahead and straightening his tie. "Give August something if you need to, but as little as possible. He thinks my sister is naive - that she just wants to take you back to Charming because she forgives you, and she misses you," Charles scoffed. "But you and I both know that she's not that person anymore."

"Yeah, sweetheart," Gemma said, pursing her lips slightly. "I know."

She inhaled deeply and fumbled around in her bag to pull out a cigarette, but Charles shot her a sharp glance. She raised her hands in surrender and gave a sigh. "So," she said with feigned nonchalance. "Showtime, then?"

"Yes," he said sternly. "Let's go."

The pair of them each stepped out of the car, and Denise flinched slightly but quickly resumed her stony expression, crossing her arms over herself as the pair walked closer to her, all of them wordless and grave until the stood a mere few feet from each other. Gemma caught a glance of a gun at Denise's waist and swallowed slightly, which didn't evade the younger woman's notice. She followed Gemma's gaze to the holstered Beretta, then finally met the woman's eyes again, her lips quirking briefly into a flicker of a smirk on one side.

"That's not what I came here to do," Denise said matter-of-factly. "But you can't trust anyone these days, can you?"

"Deedee -"

"I'll take it from here," Denise said stonily, interrupting Gemma and instead locking eyes with her brother, who still looked genuinely afraid of her. "What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Don't fuck around with me, Charles," Denise snarled suddenly. "You never do anything that doesn't benefit you."

Charles's jaw clenched, knowing that his sister thought so poorly of him and had every right to. He shook his head, clearing his throat. "All I ask," he began hesitantly. "Is that if you find the opportunity to free me from Marks, that you take it."

Gemma felt foreign and out of place, standing here with the two siblings who seemed to have an endless capacity for staring one another down. The silence lingered until finally Denise spoke up, her voice an eerie calm as she stated, "If she stabs us in the back, I'm coming after you, Charles."

"Deedee -"

"Get in the car," Denise snapped impatiently, not caring to hear Gemma tell her that she wouldn't stab any of them in the back. Gemma knew her words meant nothing anyway, and she obliged, getting into the passenger side of Denise's car and watching Charles drive away first. She stared out the window, and when she turned back to look at Denise, she saw the younger woman holding the Beretta lazily in her hand. Gemma flinched and let out a string of curses, leaning towards the window and away from Denise.

"I could do it," Denise said calmly, giving it a slight wave before tucking it away again. "But I won't."

Gemma's heart only felt normal again when Denise tucked it away again - she noticed that the younger woman's lips twitched slightly at the corners, and Gemma knew that there was a glimmer of the old spark in her, a sense of amusement. Maybe she could talk to her. Maybe there was still a way for her to win her way back into her family, if she could start with Denise.

"I was doing what I did for my family," Gemma said, straightening up proudly while Denise started up the engine and pulled out of the lot. "I was protecting them, like I'm supposed to. Deedee, I love you -"

"Yeah. You love me to death, right?" Denise scoffed, her eyes planted directly on the road. "This isn't an olive branch, Gemma. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

Denise's grip on the steering wheel was so tight that her knuckles grew pale and her hands shook slightly. Her jaw clenched, and Gemma continued to look ahead as well, unsure of what Denise had planned. She was at the younger woman's mercy. "I would've understood if it was just me," Denise said in a low voice that was barely audible over the crackling sound of the radio. "I would've understood that you were doing what you needed to for your boys. But it wasn't just me. It was Sofia - it was my little girl."

"Well, what do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Denise sneered. "I don't give a shit what happens to you anymore, Gemma," Denise said, though the sick feeling in her gut made her question just how much she meant it. "But there are still some people who do, and they're people who have been good to me."

Gemma inclined her head slowly in understanding, and Denise caught the motion from the corner of her eye as she finally hit the freeway. But Gemma struggled with silence. It didn't sit well with her. "I heard about - about Juice and Wendy -"

Gemma let out a small shriek when, at the mention of it, Denise jolted so substantially that even the steering wheel gave a jerk. "That's not any of your business," Denise said darkly. "You lost whatever right you had to wonder anything about my family."

She drew in a shuddering breath and straightened back up before continuing. "Where I'm bringing you, there are conditions - you don't set foot outside. You don't look for anything. You don't show yourself to anyone. You never show yourself to Abel again -"

"You can't tell me that I can't see my grandson -"

"I can tell you whatever the fuck I want, I'm the one with the gun, Gemma," Denise hissed. "You stay away from that boy. He's been good without you. He's gotten better - he's been seeing a therapist because of the shit you put him through, and he's finally okay again. Thanks to Wendy," Denise finished. Gemma raised her eyebrows in surprise. The fact that Denise was saying something good about Wendy was a foreign concept. It wasn't the way things worked. It threw off the balance, the requisite of seeking out a pound of flesh for a wrongdoing.

"If my husband sees you," Denise continued. "He'll probably kill you. And if your son sees you..."

Gemma's lips pursed at the insinuation that Jax would do something to her. He was capable of hating her, but she had raised him to have loyalties, the strongest of which was to her. She looked away from Denise, back out the window, and watched the scenery pass, growing more and more familiar as they drew closer and closer to Charming, to home. It might have been a blessing, if it was still her home, if she was still Queen - but now, everyone knew what the fallen queen of SAMCRO had done, and she hardly had any choice but to comply with Denise's conditions. Gemma knew that for the first time, the strings weren't hers to pull, and upon realizing this, she felt tears spring to her eyes. She had lost everything.

The greatest difference of all was that even her tears went unacknowledged by Denise, who at one point would have been the first to cry at the sight of Gemma crying. She felt herself growing blank and hopeless, unaware of the glances that Denise snuck in her direction. A part of Denise felt an ache at the sight of Gemma, looking more pale and more gaunt than she'd ever seen her. She'd told Wendy that family hated one another at times, but they were still family. Couldn't that still be true? It took her nearly the whole silent drive to consider her options now that Gemma was here, and by the time they pulled into the borders of Charming, the decision had been made.

It was over an hour before the car pulled to a stop behind a familiar building, and for a short while, Denise sat still, her breaths slightly heavy as though she was fearful of something - whatever it was that she planned on doing next. "You remember the conditions?" she said stiffly, undoing her seatbelt. Gemma nodded, glancing wordlessly at her surroundings. This couldn't be their destination - this was an unwarranted kindness. "Stay here until I come back for you," Denise said as she pushed open the car door and walked quickly to the back door of the building.

"Nero, open up!" she said, knocking on the door with the side of her small, bony fist with a series of dull thuds. "Nero!"

The older man's steps could be heard shuffling and drawing nearer until he opened the door for her, his face betraying a small amount of confusion.

"What you comin' around back for?" he asked, his brow furrowing. Denise glanced back over her shoulder and nodded at the car. Nero followed her gaze and slowly brought his hand over his mouth as he realized who he had just laid eyes on as Gemma's gaze met his. He shook his head in disbelief and exhaled heavily before looking at Denise.

"I need to know that you'll keep this a secret, that you'll fix this. No one can know she's here," Denise said, crossing her arms over himself, and while she did what she could to appear calm, Nero saw the glimmer of fear in her eyes that indicated that she knew the risk she was taking, the recklessness of this act. "They'll all hate me -"

"Why are you doin' this, Chinita?" Nero interrupted. "I don't -"

"Everything you said while I was staying here... that's the reason Juice and I are okay," Denise said, feeling the pressure of tears building up behind her eyes. "You gave me back my family. You gave me a chance to make things right with someone I love more than anything. Now, maybe we're even," she shrugged. Nero looked at her with a sad, scrutinizing expression for a moment before finally smiling and kissing the side of her head.

"I got you. You're a good person, Chinita," he said before starting to walk over towards the car, towards Gemma. As he walked out of earshot, however, Denise sighed and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"I'm not so sure," she muttered to herself. Now that she had made this Nero's issue to handle, his burden to bear, maybe she could move on. This had to be the last secret, she reminded herself. It had to be the last.

* * *

><p>Harvey Mulligan thought it was only appropriate that he look his best when August Marks called and requested a meeting with him - August Marks, one of the most successful businessmen in the Bay Area, wanted a meeting with him.<p>

The recent months had been frustrating. It wasn't that Melissa wasn't great - she was a sweet girl, and Harvey knew that he was lucky to have snagged her. The fact of the matter was, however, that she was so successful in her internship at the news network that he couldn't help but be frustrated with it. People always recognized her, always gave her credit for her work, and now, she had even landed a few stints as the anchor for the morning news. Harvey knew that if he could simply get in with August Marks and strike a good deal, he would assert the fact that he was the man in this relationship.

He was wearing his best suit and tie, fiddling with the knot at his neck while he stood in the waiting room of Marks Incorporated - for all he knew, this was a job interview. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and damned if he wasn't going to be convincing. August Marks would never know that he was a struggling college grad whose fiancee was outdoing him at every pace.

"Mister Marks will see you now," the secretary said after receiving the communication through her earpiece. She stood, broad-shouldered with her hair tied back into a tight bun, and hit the button to buzz Harvey through the door. Harvey's hands were sweating already, and he wiped them on the legs of his pants so he wouldn't have damp palms to present to August Marks when he went to shake his hand. He walked into August Marks's office and made his way to the desk where the businessman in all his poise was already waiting for him.

"Mister Mulligan," August said, rising to his feet and reaching out to shake Harvey's hand with surprising warmth. "I appreciate your time today. Please, sit down."

Harvey couldn't understand why Denise - and now, Melissa, by association - hated the man so much. He oozed class and poise. He was everything that Harvey was sure one day, he'd very much like to be. Who cared if he wanted to close down a few dingy old businesses in a shitsplat town like Charming?

"Is there something I can do to help you, Mister Marks? I just want to apologize for my wife's involvement in that - that event in Charming," Harvey said quickly, sitting down as directed and shaking his head fervently. "It was in poor taste and I'm sure she's seen the error of her -"

"Oh, Mr. Mulligan," August said, waving his hand dismissively and averting his gaze downward. "I've already moved on from that incident. I just wanted to deliver my condolences to you."

"Condolences?"

"About your brother, Fabian?" August asked, his brow furrowing as though perplexed by his reaction. "I - was sure that you would," he said, shaking his head with a concerned expression. "I - I received this recently. I'm very sorry..."

Harvey's face remained confused as August reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the black prepaid phone that had been delivered by Juice and Brucey to the club. August flipped it open and scrolled to the photo he intended for Harvey to see and held it out towards him, and Harvey paled at the sight of his younger brother in such a state, tied up with a hose duct taped into his mouth. The look of terror on the younger man's face, the shadows of faceless men standing around him, all of it was enough to make Harvey felt sick.

"Fabian and I haven't - we hadn't spoken in months. Almost a year," Harvey said in a choked, sick-sounding voice, shaking his head in disbelief as he snapped the phone shut and slid it across the desk back to August. "The last I knew, he was trying to join that - that motorcycle club -"

"And that was what killed him. SAMCRO killed your brother," August said, shaking his head woefully. "They sent me that photo of him -"

"But why you?"

"Because your brother was helping me," August sighed heavily, wiping his hand gently over his mouth. "SAMCRO, they stole from me, you see. Your brother was going to help me regain possession of something very important. And they did this to him -"

"Shit," Harvey said with a shuddering breath. "My - my brother - excuse me..."

His voice trailed off as she got to his feet, barely avoiding knocking his chair over. He barreled his way out of the office, out of the waiting area without so much as a polite goodbye to the stoic receptionist as he hurried back out to his car, shutting the door behind him and slamming his hands against the steering wheel and letting out an agonized groan.

Family was family. His brother was his brother. Harvey already hated SAMCRO, because they were the reason he didn't have the woman he deserved. He should have had Denise Kwan - but instead, she was now Denise Ortiz. She belonged to that thug, to that club, and instead, Harvey was engaged to a woman who would spend the entirety of their lives upstaging him, emasculating him. Now, Fabian was dead. All he had wanted was to be part of that god forsaken club, and now it had cost him his life. Someone was going to answer for this, Harvey swore. Someone was going to pay.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So now, Harvey's a wild card in the game too. I have some stuff planned for him and Melissa too that will pull them deeper into the world of SAMCRO, because - well, the more the merrier!_

_And Gemma's back in Charming! The consequences of Denise's choice come a little further down the line, so strap in for the long haul! _

_Also, though this story is still a long way from being done, I've also been considering posting up another story I had written with a different Son and a different OC in an AU where John Teller lives. Of course, I probably wouldn't start it until this one is over, but I have a lot of it written and I think it might be worth posting one day. But for now, this story has my full attention, and I actually am reconsidering the ending I've written for this one. Everything is up in the air! Whee!_

_Anyway - I know that a lot of you wanted to see Gemma get the axe, but that didn't happen for you here. But her actions are still not without consequences. Just trust me, what I have planned is going to be plenty of fun too! Thank you for all of your feedback! Until next time, cheers!_


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